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PhotogTdpliic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


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empreinte. 

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et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


1 

2 

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ADYENTURESm  CANADA- 


OR, 


LIFE  LV  THE  WOODS. 


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271608 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 


PAU 


Boy-dreams  about  travelling.  —  Our  family  determines  to  go  to 
Canada.  —  The  first  day  on  board. —  Cure  for  sea-sickness.  — 
Our  passenjjcrs.  —  Henry's  adventure.  —  We  encounter  a 
Btonn.  —  Height  of  the  waves.  —  The  bottom  of  the  ocean. 
—  A  fossil  sliip. —  The  (ishing-grounds.  —  See  whales  and 
icebergs. —  I'orpoises. —  Sea-birds. —  Lights  in  the  sea. — 
The  great  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence.  — Thick  ice-fogs.  —  See  land 
at  last.  —  Sailing  up  the  river.  —  Land  at  Quebec 


CHAPTER   II. 

ijuebec. — Wolfe.  —  Montcalm's  skull.  —  Toronto. — We  set  off 
for  the  bush.  —  Mud-roads.  —  A  rough  ride.  —  Our  Log- 
house. —  IIow  it  was  built.  —  Our  barn.  —  We  get  oxen  and 
cows.  —  Elephant  and  Buckeye.  —  Unpacking  our  stores. — 
What  some  of  our  neighbors  brought  when  they  came.  —  Hot 
days.  —  Bush  costumes.  —  Sun-strokes. — My  sisters  have  to 
turn  salamanders.  —  Our  part  of  the  house-work    . 


18 


CHAPTER   III. 

Clearing  the  land. — David's  bragging,  and  the  end  of  it. — 
Burning  the  log-heaps.  —  Our  logging  bee.  —  What  preju- 
dice can  do.  —  Our  fences  and  crops  nearly  burned. — The 
woods  on  fire.  —  Building  a  snake  fence. — "Shingle"  pigs 
give  us  sore  trouble.  —  "  Breachy  "  horses  and  cattle     . 

(iii) 


40 


f»,^ 


IV 


Contodii, 


CI  I  APT  F.U   IV. 

We  lio;;in  our  ]in'iiarafiriiis  for  sowii);;.  —  ria<lflio<».  —  Mosqui- 
toes.—  Hfirrowiiif;  (•xpcrit'jicfs. — A  huf^e  fly.  —  SainKlies. 

—  I'lie  poison  of  iiiMcts  and  serpents. —  Winter  wheat. — 
'I'lie  wonders  of  jilanl-lite.  —  Our  lir>t  "  sport."  —  Wood- 
peckers.  — "  Chifininiks."  —  Tlie  blue  jay.  —  The  blue  bird. 

—  The  (li;:ht  of  birds 


57 


CIIAl'TKK    V. 

Some  family  elianjres.  —  Amusements.  —  ('ow-liuntinj;.  —  Our 
".side-line."  —  llie  Ixish.  — Adventures  with  rattlestuikes. 
—  Garter-.snakes.  —  A  frog's  fliglU  for  life.  —  Black  scpiirrels 


74 


CIIAPTFJl   VI. 

Spearinj;  fish.  —  .\ncient  British  canoes.  —  Indian  ones.  —  A 
bar;^ain  with  an  Indian.  —  Henry's  cold  bath.  —  Canadian 
thnnderslornis.  —  Poor  Yorick's  death.  —  Our  },'lorions  au- 
tumns. —  Tlie  clian^^e  of  the  leaf.  —  Sunsets.  —  Indian  .sum- 
nior. — The  fall  rains  and  the  roads,  —  The  lirst  snow. — 
Canadian  enld. —  A  winter  landscape  — "Ice-storms."  — 
Snow  crystals.  —  Tlie  niiiiiite  perfection  of  CJod's  wfjrks. — 
Deer-shoolinj^'.  —  David's  niisfortune. —  Useless  cruelty. — 
Shedding  of  the  stag's  horns 


89 


CIIAPTEU   VIT. 

Wolves.  —  My  adventure  with  a  bear.  —  Courtenay's  cow  and 
the  wolves.  —  A  fright  in  the  woods  by  night.  —  The  river 
freezes.  —  Our  winter  tires.  —  Cold,  cold,  cold  !  —  A  winter's 
journey.  —  Sleighing.  —  Winter  inufTlings.  —  Accidents 
through  intense  cold 


127 


CIIAPTEU   VIII. 

The  aurora  borcalis.  —  "  Jumpers."  —  Squaring  timber.  —  Rafls. 
—  Camping  out.  —  A  public  meeting.  — Winter  fashions. — 
My  toe  frozen. — A  long  winter's  walk.  —  Hospitality. — 
Nearly  lost  in  the  woods 142 


Contents. 


CHAl'TKK   IX. 

Involuntary   rarinp. —  A  Itackwoods'  parsoiiapc.  —  (Inivos  in 
tlif    wililcriii'ss.  —  Ndtiorm   of    fijiialify.  —  Arctic    wiiilors. 

—  Kiirtcd  jiiiinsc.  —  Indian  fisliinj;  in  winter.  —  A  niarriago. 

—  Our  winter's  pork 


158 


("HAl'TKU    X. 

Our  ncifxlibors.  —  IriM-ct  pla^'iics.  —  Military  nnicfrs'  families  in 

tlic  l)ii^-li.  —  Anaukwani   nii.>-take.  —  l>r.  I) nearly  sluit 

for   a   liear. —  Major     .M .  —  Our    eandles. —  Fortunate 

escape  from  a  fatal  accident 170 


CHAI'TER    XI. 

'* Xow  SprliiLT  returns.''  —  Sti;^ar-makinp.  —  Hi:stj  psalmody.  — 
Hush  j)reachinj;.  —  Worsiiip  under  dillicultics.  —  A  clerical 
Mrs.  Partin^^toii.  —  Hiolo^y.  —  A  ghost.  —  "  It  slips  good." 
—  Squatters . 


181 


CHAPTER   XII. 

Btish  magi.strates.  —  Indian  forest  guides.  —  Senses  quickened 
by  necessity.  —  breaking  up  of  the  ice.  —  Dejith  of  the  frost. 
—  A  grave  in  winter. — A  ball.  —  A  holiday  coat         .        .    196 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Wild  leeks.  —  Spring  birds.  —  Wilson's  poem  on  the  blue  bird. 
—  Downy  woodpeckers.  —  Passenger  pigeons.  —  Their  num- 
bers.—  Koosting  places.  —  The  frogs.  —  IJull  frogs.  —  Tree 
frogs. —  Flying  squirrels 207 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Our  spring  crops.  —  Indian   corn. —  Pumpkins. 
Fruits.  —  Wild  flowers 


Melons. 


220 


fi  Contaits, 

CIIAPTKR  XV.    ' 

The  Indian^.  —  Wigwams. —  Dress.  —  Can  tho  Iiidiann  be  civi- 
lized?—  Their  past  doray  a»  a  race.  —  Alleged  innocence  of 
ravage  lite.  —  Narrative  of  Katlier  Jogiies,  tiic  Jesuit  nii.s{<iun- 
ary         .*......    227 

CIlArTER  XVI. 

The  niodicine-nian.  —  Painted  faces.  —  Medals.  —  An  Em- 
bas.sy.  —  Uelij^ious  notiniis.  —  Kcast  of  the  di-ad.  —  Christ- 
ian Indians.  —  Visit  to  tlie  Indians  on  La)<e  Huron.  —  Stolidi- 
ty of  the  Indians. —  Henry  exorcises  an  Indian  ritlo     .        .    260 


CIIAPTEU  XVII. 

The  hunimins-hird.  —  Story  of  a  pet.  —  Canada  a  good  country 
for  poor  men.  —  A  bush  story  of  misfortune.  —  Statute  labor. 
—  Tor(oi.«es. —  The   hay   season.  —  Our  wa^on-drivinj?. - 
Henry  and  I  arc  nearly  drowned.  —  Ilenr)'  falls  ill.  —  Back- 
woods' doctors        


279 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

American  men  and  women. —  Fireflies.  —  Profusion  of  insect 
lite.  —  Grasshoppers.  —  Frederick  and  David  leave  Canada. 
—  Soap-making.  —  Home-made  candles.  —  Recipe  for  wash- 
ing quickly.  —  Writing  letters.  —  The  parson  for  driver        .    298 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Americanisms.  —  Our  poultrj'.  —  The  wasps.  —  Their  nests.  — 
"  Hob's  "  skill  in  killing  them.  —  Raccoons.  —  A  hunt.  — 
Raccoon  cake.  —  The  town  of  Busaco.  —  Summer  "  sail- 
ing."—  Boy  drowned.  —  French  settlers 


312 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Apple-bees.  —  Orchards.  —  Gorgeous  display  of  npple-blossom. 
—  A  meeting  in  the  woods.  —  The  ague.  —  Wild  parsnips.  — 
Man  lost  in  the  woods  ......    829 


Contents, 


vii 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

4   tornado.  —  Hate.  —  Doserted   lotfl.  —  American   in(iui«itive- 
noss.  —  An  election  agent         .....     339 


ClIArTEU  XXII. 

A  journey  to  Niagara.  —  Uiver  St.  Clair.  —  Detroit.  —  A  slave's 
eseape.  —  An  American  Steamer.  —  Descripfion  of  the  Fulls 
of  Niagara.  —  Fearful  catustrophe        ....    849 


CHAPTER  X:\'!Il.    x 

The  Buspension-bridge  at  Niagara.  —  The  Whirlpool.  —  The 
battle  i»f  Lundy's  Lane.  —  IJri  '  s  mominien'  —A  soldier 
nearly  drowned .......    867 


CriAPTEU  XXTV. 

The  Canadian  lakes.  —  The  exile's  love  of  home.  —  Tim  color*^'! 
people  in  Canada.  —  Kice.  — The  Maid  of  tl»e  Mist. —  Home- 
spun clotli.  —  A  narrow  road.  —  A  grumi)ler.  —  New  Eng- 
land emigrants.  —  A  potato  pit.  —  The  winter's  wood  .    875 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Thought.s  for  the  future.  —  Changes.  —  Too  hard  study.  — 
Education  in  Canada.  —  Christmas  markets.  —  Winter 
amusements.  —  Ice-boats.  —  Very  cold  ice.  —  Oil-springs.  — 
Changes  on  the  farm.  —  Growth  of  Canada.  —  The  American 
climate.  —  Old  Eng  and  again  .... 


801 


I 


LIFE    IN    THE   AVOOUS. 


CHAPTER    I. 


Boy -dreams  about  travelling.  —  Our  family  dctennincs  to  go  to 
Canada.  —  The  first  ilay  on  board.  —  Cure  lor  sea-sickness. — 
Our  passengers.  —  Henry's  adventure.  —  \Ve  encounter  a  storm. 
— IleiLrht  of  the  waves.  —  The  bottom  of  the  ocean.  —  A  fossil 
ship.  —  The  fishing-grounds.  —  See  whales  and  icebergs.  —  Por- 
poises.—  Sea-birds.  —  Lights  in  the  sea.  —  'J'lie  great  Gulf  of  St. 
Lawrence.  —  Thick  ice-fogs.  —  See  land  at  last.  —  Sailing  up  the 
river.  —  Land  at  Quebec. 

I  WONDER  if  ever  there  were  a  boy  who  did 
not  wish  to  travel  ?  I  know  I  did,  and  used  to 
spend  many  an  liour  tliinking  of  all  the  wonderful 
things  I  should  see,  and  of  what  I  would  bring  home 
when  I  returned.  Books  of  travel  I  devoured 
(Treedily  —  and  very  good  reading  for  boys,  as  well 
as  for  crown  men,  1  have  always  thought  them.  I 
began  with  "  Robinson  Crusoe,"  like  most  boys  — 
for  who  has  not  read  his  story  ?  Burckhardt,  the 
traveller,  found  a  young  Arab  reading  a  translation 
of  it  in  the  door  of  his  father's  tent  in  the  desert. 
But*  I  don't  think  I  ever  wished  to  be  like  him,  or 
to  roam  in  a  wald  romantic  way,  or  "  go  to  sea,'* 

I  (1) 


»  1 

1  I 


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2 


Boy-dreams  about  Travelling, 


as  it  is  called,  like  many  other  boys  I  have  known, 
which  is  a  very  difl'erent  thino;  from  havino;  harm- 
less  fancies,  that  one  would  like  to  see  stranfje 
races  of  men  and  strano;©  countries.  Some  of  mv 
schoolmates,  whom  nothing  would  content  but 
being  sailors,  early  cured  me  of  any  thought  jf 
being  one,  if  ever  1  had  it,  by  what  I  knew  of  their 
story  when  they  came  back.  One  of  them,  James 
Roper,  I  did  not  see  for  some  years  after  he 
w^ent  off,  but  when  I  met  him  at  last  among  the 
ships,  he  was  so  worn  and  broken  down  I  hardly 
knew  him  affiiin,  and  he  had  got  so  many  of  the  low 
forecastle  ways  about  him,  that  I  could  not  bear  his 
company.  Another,  Robert  Simpson,  went  one 
voyage  to  Trebizond,  but  that  cured  him.  He  came 
back  perfectly  contented  to  stay  at  home,  as  he  had 
found  the  romance  of  sailoring,  which  had  lured  him 
away,  a  very  different  thing  from  the  reality.  He 
had  never  counted  on  beino;  turned  out  of  his  bed 
every  other  nioht  or  so  for  somethino;  or  other,  as  he 
was,  or  being  clouted  with  a  wet  swab  by  some 
sulky  fellow,  or  having  to  fetch  and  carry  for  the 
men,  and  do  their  bidding,  or  to  climb  wet  rigging 
in  stormy  weather,  and  get  drenched  every  now 
and  then,  without  any  chance  of  changing  his 
clothes  ;  not  to  speak  of  the  difference  between  his 
nice  room  at  liome  and  the  close,  crowded,  low- 
roofed  forecastle,  wdiere  he  could  hardly  see  for 
tobacco  smoke,  and  where  he  had  to  eat  and  sleep 
with  companions  whom  he  would  not  have  thought 


The  First  Day  on  Board. 


8 


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f'or 
?ep 


I 


of  speaking  to  before  lie  sailed.  He  came  back 
quite  sobered  down,  and  after  a  time  went  to  study 
law,  and  is  now  a  barrister  in  good  practice. 

Yet  I  was  verv  jilad  when  I  learned  that  we  were 
ffoinn-  to  America.  The  great  woods,  and  the  s])ort 
I  would  have  with  the  deer  and  bears  in  them,  and 
the  Indians,  of  whom  I  had  read  so  often,  and  the 
curious  wildness  there  was  in  the  thought  of  settling 
where  there  were  so  few  people,  and  living  so  dif- 
ferentlv  from  any  thing  I  had  known  at  home, 
(piite  captivated  me.  I  was  glad  when  the  day  of 
sailing  came,  and  went  on  board  our  ship,  the 
Ocean  King^  with  as  much  delight  as  if  I  had  been 
going  on  a  holiday  trip.  There  were  eight  of  us 
altogether — five  brothers  and  three  sisters  (my 
father  and  mother  were  both  dead),  and  I  had 
already  one  brother  in  America,  wldle  another 
staid  behind  to  push  his  way  in  England.  The 
anchor  once  heaved,  we  were  soon  on  oin*  way  down 
th(^  INIersey,  and  the  night  fell  on  us  while  we  were 
still  exj)loring  the  wonders  of  the  ship,  and  taking 
an  occasional  peep  over  the  side  at  the  sliure. 
When  we  had  got  into  the  channel,  the  wind  having 
come  round  to  the  south-east,  the  captain  resolved 
to  go  by  the  northern  route,  passing  the  upj)er  end 
of  Ireland.  All  we  saw  of  it,  however,  was  very 
little ;  indeed,  most  of  us  did  not  see  it  at  all,  for 
the  first  swell  of  the  sea  had  sent  a  good  many  to 
their  berths,  in  all  stages  of  sickness.  One  old 
gentleman,  a  Scotchman,  who  had  been  boasting 


Cure  for  Seasickness, 


tliat  lie  had  a  preventive  that  would  keep  him  clear 
of  it,  made  us  all  laugh  by  his  groans  and  wretch- 
edness ;  for  his  specific  had  not  only  failed,  but  had 
set  him  off  amono;st  the  first.  He  had  been  told 
that  if  he  took  enouo-h  iiinn;erbread  and  whiskey, 
he  might  face  any  sea,  ainl  he  had  followed  the 
advice  faithfully ;  but  as  tlie  whiskey  itself  was  fit 
to  make  him  sick,  even  on  shore,  you  may  judge 
how  much  it  and  the  gingerbread  together  helped 
him  when  the  ship  was  heaving  and  rolHng  under- 
his  feet.  We  boys  did  not  fail,  of  course,  when  we 
heard  him  lamenting  that  either  the  one  or  the 
other  had  crossed  his  lips,  to  come  over  their  names 
pretty  often  in  his  hearing,  and  advise  each  other 
to  try  some,  every  mention  of  the  words  bringing 
out  an  additional  shudder  of  disfmst  from  the  unfor- 
tunate  sufi'erer.  ]\Iy  eldest  sister  had  sent  me,  just 
before  coming  on  board,  for  some  laudanum  and 
mustard,  which  she  was  to  mix  and  ap])ly  some  way 
that  was  sure,  she  said,  to  keep  her  well ;  but  she 
got  sick  so  instantly  on  the  ship  beginning  to  move, 
that  she  forgot  them,  and  we  had  the  mustard  after- 
wards at  dinner  in  America,  and  the  laudanum 
was  a  lono;  time  in  the  house  for  medicine.  For  <% 
few  days  every  thing  was  unpleasant  enough,  but 
gradually  all  got  light  again,  and  even  the  ladies 
ventured  to  reappear  on  deck. 

Of  course,  among  a  number  of  people  gathered 
in  a  ship,  you  were  sure  to  meet  strange  characters. 
A  little  light  man  in  a  wig  was  soon  the  butt  of  the 


Our  Passengers. 


5 


cabin,  he  would  ask  sucli  silly  questions,  and  say 
such  outrageous  things.  He  was  taking  cheeses, 
and  tea,  aiid  I  don't  know  vvhat  else,  to  America 
with  him,  for  fear  he  would  get  nothing  to  eat  there  ; 
and  he  was  dreadfully  alarmed,  by  one  of  the  pas- 
sen<Ters,  who  had  been  over  before,  tellino;  him  he 
would  find  cockroach  pie  the  chief  dainty  in  Can- 
ada. 1  believe  the  cheeses  he  had  with  him  liad 
come  from  America  at  first.  He  thought  the  best 
thing  to  make  money  by  in  Canada,  was  to  sow  all 
the  country  with  mustard-seed,  it  yielded  such  a 
great  crop,  he  said ;  and  he  seemed  astonished  at 
all  the-  table  laughing  at  the  thought  of  what  could 
possibly  be  done  with  it.  There  was  another  per- 
son in  the  cabin  —  astiflt',  conceited  man,  with  a  very 
strange  head,  the  whole  face  and  brow  running 
back  from  the  chin,  and  gi'eat  standing-out  ears. 
He  was  a  distant  relation  of  some  admiral,  I 
believe  ;  but  if  he  liad  been  the  admiral  himself,  he 
could  not  have  carried  his  head  higher  than  he  did. 
Nobody  was  good  enough  for  him.  It  seemed  a 
condescension  in  him  to  talk  with  any  one.  But 
he  soon  lost  all  his  greatness,  notwithstanding  his 
airs,  by  his  asking  one  day,  when  we  were  speaking 
about  Italy,  "  What  river  it  was  that  ran  north  and 
south  along  the  coast  ?  "  in  that  country.  We 
were  speaking  of  a  road,  and  he  thouglit  it  was 
about  a  river.  Then  he  asked,  the  same  day, 
where  the  Danube  was,  and  if  it  were  a  large  river  ; 
and  when  some  one  spoke  about  Sicily,  and  said 


6  Ilenrifs  Adventure. 

that  It  had  been  hold  hy  the  Carthaginians,  he 
wished  to  know  if  these  people  held  it  now.  Boy 
as  I  was,  I  could  not  help  seeing  what  a  dreadful 
thing  it  was  to  be  so  ignorant ;  and  I  determined 

that  I  would  never  be  like  Mr. (I  sha'n't  tell 

his  name  ),  at  any  rate,  but  would  learn  as  much 
as  ever  I  could. 

I  dare  say  we  were  troublesome  enough  to  the  cap- 
tain sometimes,  but,  if  so,  he  took  his  revenge  on 
one  of  us  after  a  time.  One  day  we  were  playing 
with  a  rope  and  pulley  which  was  hooked  high  up 
in  the  rigging.  There  was  a  large  loop  at  the  one 
end,  and  the  other,  after  passing  through  the  block, 
hung  down  on  the  deck.  Henry  had  just  put  this 
loop  over  his  shoulders,  and  fitted  it  nicely  below 
his  arms,  when  the  captain  chanced  to  see  him,  and, 
in  an  instant,  before  he  knew  what  he  was  going 
to  do,  he  had  hauled  him  up  ever  so  high,  with  all  the 
passengers  looking  at  him  and  laughing  at  the 
ridiculous  figure  he  cut.  It  was  some  time  before 
he  would  let  him  down,  and  as  he  was  a  pretty  big 
lad,  and  thought  himself  almost  a  man,  he  felt 
terribly  affronted.  But  he  had  nothing  for  it  when 
ne  got  down  but  to  hide  in  his  berth  till  his  pride 
got  cooled  and  till  the  laugh  stopped.  We  were 
all  careful  enough  to  keep  out  of  Captain  Morrison's 
way  after  that. 

One  way  or  other  the  days  passed  very  pleasantly 
to  us  boys,  whatever  they  were  to  older  people.  It 
was  beautiful,  wdien  the  weather  was  fine  and  the 


We  encounter  a  Storm. 


cap- 


'g 


•t 

;:» 

>? 
..V 
■  i: 

^      '4' 


wind  right,  to  see  how  we  glided  through  the 
(Truen  naileries  of  the  sea,  wliich  rose,  crested  with 
white,  at  each  side.  One  day  and  night  we  had, 
wliat  we  thought,  a  great  storm.  The  sails  were 
nearly  all  stiaick,  and  I  heard  the  mate  say  that  the 
two  that  were  left  did  more  hann  than  good,  because 
tliey  only  drove  the  ship  deeper  into  the  water. 
When  it  grew  nearly  dark,  I  crept  up  the  cabin- 
stairs  to  look  along  the  deck  at  the  waves  ahead. 
I  could  see  them  risino;  like  great  black  mountains 
seamed  with  snow,  and  coming  with  an  awful  mo- 
tion towards  us,  making  the  ship  climb  a  huge  hill, 
as  it  were,  the  one  moment,  and  go  down  so  steeply 
the  next,  that  you  could  not  help  being  afraid  that 
it  was  sinking  bodily  into  the  depths  of  the  sea. 
The  wind,  meanwhile,  roared  through  the  ropes  and 
yards,  and  eveiy  little  while  there  was  a  hollow 
thump  of  some  wave  against  the  bows,  followed  by 
the  rush  of  water  over  the  bulwarks.  I  had  read 
the  account  of  the  storm  in  Virgil,  and  am  sure  he 
must  have  seen  something  like  what  I  saw  that 
night  to  have  written  it.  There  is  an  ode  in  Hor- 
ace to  him,  when  he  was  on  the  point  of  setting  out 
on  a  voyage.  Perhaps  he  saw  it  then.  The  de- 
scription in  the  Bible  is,  however,  the  grandest  pic- 
ture of  a  storm  at  sea :  "  The  Lord  commandeth, 
and  raiseth  the  stormy  wind,  which  lifteth  up  the 
waves  of  the  deep.  They  mount  up  to  heaven, 
they  go  down  again  to  the  depths :  their  soul  is 
melted  because  of  trouble.     They  reel  to  and  fro 


Ilrl<jh(  of  ///(•  Waves. 


and  stairmT  like  :v  drunken  man,  and  arc  at  their 
wit's  end."  '^  The  Lord  liatli  liis  way  in  the  wliirl- 
wind  and  in  the  storm,  and  the  clouds  are  tlie  thist 
of  his  feet/'  Yet  1  liave  found  since,  tliat  tl»ou;:li 
the  waves  apjiear  so  very  lii^h,  they  are  nnich  lower 
tlian  we  suppose,  our  notions  of  them  hein;:;  taken 
from  lookin<j;  up  at  them  from  tiie  hollo\*'  hetween 
two.  Dr.  Scoreshy,  a  great  authority,  measured 
those  of  the  Atlantic  in  ditt'erent  weathers,  and 
found  that  they  seldom  rise  above  fifteen  feet,  a 
great  storm  only  causing;  them  to  rise  to  thirty-five, 
or,  at  most,  forty,  which  is  very  different  from 
"  runnino;  mountains  hijih,"  as  we  often  hear  said. 
I  could  not  help  i)ityinn;  the  men  who  had  to  go  up 
to  the  yards  and  rin-oinir  in  the  terrible  wind  and 
rain,  with  the  ship  heaving  and  rolling  so  dread- 
fully, and  work  with  the  icy  cold  sheets  and  r()})es. 
Poor  fellows  !  it  seems  a  wonder  how  they  ever  can 
hold  on.  Indeed,  they  too  often  lose  their  hold, 
and  then  there  is  no  hope  for  them  ;  down  they  go, 
splash  into  the  wild  sea,  with  such  a  scream  of 
agony  as  no  one  can  ever  foi-get  after  having  heard 
it.  Mv  brother,  on  crossiuij;  some  years  after,  saw 
a  man  thus  lost  —  a  fine,  healthy  Orkneyman, 
whom  some  sudden  lurch  of  the  ship  threw  from 
the  outside  of  the  yard.  Thoujxh  it  was  broad  dav- 
light,  and  though  they  would  have  done  any  thing 
to  help  him  as  they  saw  him  rising  on  the  wave, 
further  and  further  behind  them,  swimming  bravely, 
they  were  perfectly  unable  even  to  make  an  effort, 


)es. 
can 


lo 


of 
'iircl 
saw 
lan, 
'(»m 
av- 
intr 

ve, 
.rt, 


The  Bottom  of  the  Ocean. 


9 


the  soa  rolling  so  wildly,  and  the  ship  tearing  on 
through  the  waves  so  swiftly.  So  they  had,  with 
hearts  like  to  break,  to  let  him  drown  before  their 
very  eyes. 

As  we  o-ot  further  over  we  heard  a  <xreat  deal 
about  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland,  and,  naturally 
enoui^h,  tliought  the  shores  of  that  island  were  what 
was  meant ;  but  we  found,  when  we  reached  them, 
tliat  it  was  only  the  name  mven  to  the  shallower 
part  of  the  sea  to  the  south  of  the  coast.  The 
soundings  of  the  electric  telegra})h  have  since  shown, 
that  from  Ireland  on  the  one  side,  and  Newfound- 
land on  the  other,  a  level  table-land  forms  the  floor 
of  the  ocean,  at  no  great  depth,  for  some  hundreds 
of  miles,  the  space  between  sinking  suddenly  on 
both  sides  into  unfathomable  abysses.  What  the 
depth  of  the  Atlantic  is  at  the  deepest  is  not  known, 
but  I  remember  seeing  a  notice  of  a  surveying 
ship,  which  had  been  able  to  sink  a  line  in  the 
southern  section  of  it  to  the  wonderful  depth 
of  seven  miles,  finding  the  bottom  only  with  that 
great  length  of  rope.  The  banks  are,  no  doubt, 
formed  in  part  from  the  material  carried  by  the  great 
ocean  current  which  flows  up  from  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  washing  the  shores  all  the  way  ;  and  then, 
passing  Newfonndland,  reaches  across  even  to  the 
most  northern  parts  of  Europe  and  the  Arctic  circle. 
If  the  quantity  of  mud,  and  gravel,  and  sand  depos- 
ited on  the  banks,  be  m'eat  enouixh  to  bury  some 
of  the  many  wrecks  of  all  sizes  which  go  to  the  bot- 


10 


A  Fossil  Ship. 


If. 


toiii  tlicre,  wliat  a  woiidoiful  siglit  some  future  ages 
may  Irave  !  Tlie  floor  of  the  ocean  lias  often,  else- 
where, been  gradually  or  suddenly  raised  into  dry 
land ;  and  if  the  lianks  should  be  so,  and  the 
wrecks  be  buried  in  them  before  thuy  had  rotted 
away,  geologists  of  those  days  will  perhaps  be  lay- 
ing bare,  in  some  (piarry,  now  far  down  in  the  sea, 
the  outline  of  a  fossil  shij),  with  all  the  things  it 
had  in  it  when  it  was  lost ! 

We  met  a  great  many  fishing-boats  in  this  part, 
some  from  Newfoundland,  some  fnmi  Nova  Scotia, 
others,  again,  from  the  northern  coasts  of  the  United 
States,  with  not  a  few  all  the  way  from  France. 
We  were  becalmed  one  day  close  to  some  from  the 
State  of  Maine,  and  one  of  them  very  soon  sent  off 
a  boat  to  us,  wuth  some  as  fine-looking  men  in  it  as 
you  could  well  see,  to  barter  fish  with  the  captain 
for  some  pork.  For  a  piece  or  two  of  the  sailor's 
mess  pork,  which  I  thought  dreadful  looking,  it  was 
so  yellow  and  fat,  they  threw  on  board  quite  a 
number  of  cod-fish  and  some  haddocks,  giving  us,  I 
thouglit,  by  far  the  best  of  the  exchange.  I  am 
told  that  a  great  many  of  tliese  fishing-vessels  are 
lost  every  year  by  storms,  and  occasionally  some 
are  run  down  and  sunk  in  a  moment  by  a  ship 
passing  over  them.  They  are  so  rash  as  to  neglect 
hanging  out  lights,  in  many  cases,  and  the  weather 
is,  moreover,  often  so  very  foggy,  that,  even  when 
they  do,  it  is  impossible  to  see  them.  The  ships, 
if  going  at  all  fast,  sound  fog-horns  every  now  and 


;  r 


I%e  Fishing- grounds » 


11 


then  on  such  days  —  that  Is,  they  should  do  it  — 
but  I  fear  they  sometimes  forget.  There  is  far  less 
humanity  in  some  people  than  one  would  like  to 
see,  even  the  chance  of  causing  death  itself  seeming 
to  give  them  no  concern.  I  remember  once  going 
in  a  steamer  up  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  over  part  of  the 
same  ground,  when  we  struck  a  fishing-schooner 
in  the  dead  of  the  night ;  but  the  captain  only 
swore  at  it  for  being  in  his  way,  and  never  stopped 
to  see  if  it  were  much  injured  or  not,  though,  for 
any  thing  he  or  any  one  knew,  it  might  be  in  a 
sinking  state.  Whether  it  be  thouo-htlessness  or 
passion  at  the  time,  or  stony  hard-heartedness,  it  is 
an  awful  thing  to  be  unkind.  Uncle  Toby,  who  put 
the  fly  out  of  the  window  rather  than  kill  it,  makes 
us  love  him  for  his  tenderness,  even  in  an  instance 
so  slight. 

One  day  we  saw  two  whales  at  a  short  distance 
from  the  ship,  but  their  huge  black  backs,  and  th  j 
spout  of  water  they  made  from  their  breathing- 
holes  when  they  were  taking  a  fi*esh  breath,  was 
all  we  saw  of  them.  Some  of  the  youngsters^  how- 
ever, made  some  sport  out  of  the  sight,  by  telling  a 
poor  simple  woman,  who  had  got  into  the  cabin, 
how  they  had  read  of  a  ship  that  once  struck  on  a 
great  black  island  in  the  middle  of  the  sea,  and 
went  down,  and  how  the  sailors  got  off  on  the 
rock,  and  landed  their  provisions,  and  were  mak- 
ing themselves  comfortable,  when  one  of  them,  un- 
fortunately, thought  he  would  kindle  a  fire  to  cook 


12 


See   Whales  and  Icebergs. 


sometliin^i;  Init  li.'ul  luirdlv  done  it  before  tliev  (lis- 
covered  tliat.  tlu-y  had  p)t  on  the  hack  of  a  slec))- 
in<^  wliaie,  wliich  no  sooner  i'elt  the  heat  hurnni*;  it 
than  it  j»hni«j;ed  (h)wn  into  tlu^  waves,  witii  ail  on 
it!  It  is  a  part  of  one  of  tlie  hov's  stories  we  liave 
all  read,  but  the  poor  creature  believed  it,  listening- 
to  tlieni  with  her  eves  fixed  on  tlieir  i'aces,  and  ex- 
jnvssing  her  pity  for  the  sailors  who  had  made  the 
mistake. 

We  had  two  or  three  iceberixs  in  siixlit,  when 
near  Newlbundland,  and  verv  beautiful  they  were. 
Only  think  of  great  mountains  of  ice  shining  in 
the  sun  witli  every  color  that  light  can  give, 
and  cascades  of  snowy-white  water  leaping  down 
their  sidivs  into  the  sea.  Those  we  saw  were  j)er- 
haps  from  eiglity  to  a  hundred  feet  high,  but  they 
are  sometimes  even  two  hundred  ;  and  as  tliere  are 
eight  feet  of  ice  below  the  water  for  every  one 
above,  tliis  would  make  a  two  hundred  feet  iceberg 
more  than  the  third  of  a  mile  from  the  bottom  to 
the  top.  They  are  formed  on  the  shores  of  the  icy 
seas  in  tlie  north,  by  tlie  alternate  melting  and 
freezinor  of  the  edae  of  those  ice-rivers  wliich  we 
calh  glaciers,  which  get  thrust  out  from  the  land  till 
tliey  are  undermined  by  the  sea,  and  cracked  by 
summer  tliaws,  and  then  tumble  into  the  waters, 
to  find  tlieir  way  wherever  the  currents  may  carry 
them.  Dr.  Kane  and  Captain  M'Clintock  both 
saw  them  in  the  ditferent  stages  of  their  growth  ; 
and  I  don't  know  a  more  interesting  narrative  than 


4 


Icebergs, 


13 


tliat  of  the  ascent  to  the  top  of  tlie  groat  frozen 
stream,  on  the  shore  of  Washington's  l^and,  hy  the 
titrnier,  and  his  looking  away  to  the  north,  east, 
and  sontli,  over  the  vast,  broken,  many-coh)red 
continent  of  ice,  wliich  stretches  in  awl'nl  (K'ptli 
arul  nnbroken  continuity  over  Greenhmd.  The 
iceher<Ts  often  carry  off  from  tlie  shore  a  vast  quan- 
tity of  stones  and  gravel,  which  gets  frozen  into 
them.  Dr.  iScoreshy  says  he  has  seen  one  of  them 
currying,  he  should  think,  from  fifty  to  a  hundred 
thousand  tons  of  rocks  on  it.  It  has,  no  doubt, 
been  in  this  way  that  most  of  the  great  blocks  and 
boulders  of  stone,  different  from  any  in  their  neio;h- 
bt)rhood,  which  lie  scattered  over  many  parts  of 
the  world,  have  been  taken  to  their  })resent  })laces.* 
I  must  not  forget  the  ])orpoises  —  great  pig-like 
fish,  which  once  or  twice  mocked  us  by  racing 
alongside,  darting  a-head  every  now  and  then  like 
arrows,  as  if  to  show  us  how  slow  we  were  in  com- 
parison —  nor  the  birds,  which  never  left  us  the 
whole  way,  and  must  sleep  on  the  water  when  they 
do  sleep  —  nor  the  beautiful  lights  which  shone  in 
the  sea  at  nijxht.  We  used  to  sit  at  the  stern  look- 
injT  at  them  for  long  together.  The  ridtj-es  of  the 
waves  would  sometimes  seem  all  on  fire,  and  streaks 
and  spofs  of  light  would  follow  the  ship  with  every 


*  What  is  known  as  the  "  boulder  clay,"  however,  seems  rather 
to  bo  the  moraine  of  ancient  glaciers  —  that  is,  the  wreck  of  broken 
rocks  torn  away  by  them  in  their  passage  through  the  valleys,  Rnd 
now  left  bare  by  their  having  melted  away. 


I  ; 


14 


!  M' 


i.  [ 


■A\ 


■  it- 


l^ 


Porpoises  and  Sea-birds. 


moment's    progress.      Sometimes,    as    the    water 
ruslied  round  tlie  stern  and  up  from  beneath,  they 
would  ghtter  hke  a  shower  of  stars  or  diamonds, 
joining  presently  in  a  sheet  of  flame.     Now  they 
would   look   like   balls   of  glowing   metal  ;    then, 
presently,   they  would  pass  like  ribbons  of  light. 
There  was  no  end  to  the  combinations  or  cliano;es 
of  beauty  ;  the  very  water  joined  to  heighten  them 
by    its    ceaseless     mingling   of    colors,     from    the 
wliitest  foam,  through  every  shade  of  green,  to  the 
dark  mass  of  the  ocean  around.     These  appearances 
come  from  the  presence  of  myriads  of  creatures  of 
all  sizes,  chiefly  the  different  kinds  of  Sea-nettles,* 
some  of  which  are  so  small  as  to  need  a  microscope 
to  show  their  parts,  while  others  form  large  masses, 
and  shine  like  the  suns  of  these  watery  constella- 
tions.    They  tire  luminous  by  a  phosphoric  light 
they  are  able  to    secrete ;  their    brilliancy  being 
thus  of  the  same  kind  as  tlmt  which  smokes  and 
burns  in  the  dark  from  the  skin  of  fish,  and  makes 
the  lights  in  so  many  different  insects.     The  phos- 
phorus   used   in   manufactures   is    obtained    from 
burned  bones.     I  have  often  seen  a  similar  light  in 
the  back  woods  on  the  old   half-rotten  stumps  of 
trees  which  had  been  cut  down.     The  glow-worm 
of  England  and  the  fire-fly  of  Canada  are  familiar 
examples  of  tho   same   wonderful   power   of  self- 
illumination.      Indeed,  few  countries  are  without 

*  The  jelly-fisli,  or  medusa,  whioh  we  so  often  see  on  our 
beaches,  is  a  familiar  example  of  the  class. 


'^i 


Lights  in  the  Sea. 


16 


Bome  species  of  insect  possessing  this  characteristic. 
One  cannot  help  thinking  how  universal  life  is  when 
they  see  it  as  it  is  shown  in  these  sights  at  sea  — 
millions  on  millions  of  shining  creatures  in  the  path 
of  a  single  ship  ;  and  the  happiness  which  life  gives 
us  in  our  youth  makes  us  admire  the  kindness  of 
God,  who,  by  making  eveiy  thing  so  full  of  it,  has 
crowded  the  air,  and  earth,  and  waters,  with  so 
much  enjoyment. 

Our  sabbaths  .on  board  were  not  quite  like  those 
at  home ;  but,  as  we  had  a  clergyman  with  us, 
who  was  going  with  his  family  to  a  chaplaincy  in 
the  Far  West,  we  had  prayers  and  sermons  in  the 
forenoon,  when  the  weather  permitted.  But  a 
good  many  of  the  passengers  were  not  very  respect- 
ful to  the  day,  and  some,  who,  I  dare  say,  were 
very  orderly  on  Sundays  at  home,  seemed  to  act 
as  if  to  be  on  a  voyage  made  every  day  a  week- 
day. 

We  were  now  in  the  great  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence, 
r/hich  was  called  so  because  Cabot,  who  discovered 
it,  chanced  to  do  so  on  the  day  set  apart  to  that 
saint.  But  we  were  some  time  in  it  before  we  saw 
land,  and  there  was  more  care  taken  about  tho 
position  of  the  ship  than  ever  before,  for  fear  we 
should,  like  so  many  vessels,  fall  foul  of  the  island 
of  Anticosti,  or  run  on  shore  in  a  fog.  We  had 
had  thick  weather  occasionally  from  our  approach- 
ing Newfoundland,  and  it  still  prevailed  now  and 
theji  till  we  got  near  Quebec.     The  icebergs  com- 


16 


■'I  I 


Thick  Ice-fogs* 


I  ^^\ 


f 


ing  clown  from  the  north,  and  the  different  tem- 
jierature  of  the  air  coming  over  them  and  over  the 
great  frozen  regions,  cause  these  thick  mists,  by 
condensing  the  evaporation  from  the  warmer  sea, 
and  preventing  its  rising  into  the  air.  We  could 
sometimes  hardly  see  the  length  of  the  bowsprit 
before  us,  and  as  the  sun  would  be  shut  out  for 
days  together,  so  that  we  could  not  find  out  our 
position,  it  made  every  one  anxious  and  half  afraid. 
Many  ships  are  lost  by  being  muffled  in  these 
thick  clouds.  They  drive,  at  full  speed,  against 
icebergs  or  on  sunken  rocks,  or  ashore  on  the  wild 
coast,  when  they  think  themselves  safe  in  an  open 
clear  sea.  I  often  wondered,  when  crossing  again, 
some  years  after,  in  a  great  steamer,  how  we  ever 
escaped.  On  we  would  go  in  it,  with  the  fog-bell 
ringing  and  horns  blowing,  to  be  sure,  but  in  per- 
fect blind  ignorance  of  what  lay  a  few  yards  ahead. 
Other  sliips,^  icebergs,  rocks,  or  the  iron  shore, 
might  be  close  at  hand,  yet  on,  on,  up  and  down 
went  the  great  shafts,  and  beat,  beat,  went  the 
huge  paddle-wheels  —  the  ship  trembling  all  over, 
as  if  even  it  were  half  uneasy.  It  is  a  wonder, 
not  that  so  many,  but  that  so  few  ships  should  be 
lost,  covering,  the  sea  as  they  do  at  all  seasons,  like 
great  flocks  of  seafowl. 

After  a  time  the  land  became  visible  at  last,  first 
on  one  side  iuid  then  on  the  other,  and  the  pilot 
was  taken  on  board  —  a  curious  lookino;  man  to 
most  of  us,  in  his  extraorclhiary  mufflings,  and  with 


Sailing  up  the  River, 


17 


his  broken  French-English.  As  we  sailed  up  the 
river  the  views  on  the  banks  became  very  pleas- 
ing. The  white  houses,  with  their  high  roofs,  like 
those  we  see  in  pictures  of  French  chateaux,  and 
the  churches  roofed  with  tin,  and  as  white  under- 
neath as  the  others,  and  the  line  of  fields  of  every 
shade,  from  the  brown  earth  to  the  dark  green 
wheat,  and  the  curious  zio-zao;  wooden  fences,  and 
the  solenm  woods,  every  here  and  there  coming 
out  at  the  back  of  the  picture,  like  great  grim 
sentinels  of  the  land,  made  it  impossible  to  stay 
away  from  the  deck.  Then  there  was  the  grand 
sunsets,  with  the  water  like  glass,  and  the  shores 
reflected  in  them  far  down  into  their  depths,  and 
the  curtains  of  gold  and  crimson,  and  violet,  and 
green,  by  turns,  as  the  twilight  faded  into  night. 


3« 


ler, 
be 


( ':  i 


w 


18 


Quebec, 


CHAPTER    II. 

Quebec.  —  Wolfe.  —  Montcalm's  8kull.  —  Toronto. — We  set  off  for 
the  bush.  —  Mud-roads. — A  rough  ride.  —  Our  Log-house. — 
How  it  was  built.  —  Our  barn.  —  We  get  oxen  and  cows. — 
Elephant  and  Buckeye.  —  Unpacking  our  stores.  —  What  some 
of  our  neighbors  brought  when  tlicy  came.  —  Hot  days.  —  Bush 
costumes.  —  Sun-strokes.  —  My  sisters  have  to  turn  salamanders. 
—  Our  part  of  the  house-work. 

OUR  landing  at  Quebec  was  only  for  a  very 
short  time,  till  some  freight  was  delivered,  our 
vessel  having  to  go  up  to  Montreal  before  we  left 
it.  But  we  had  stay  enough  to  let  us  climb  the 
narrow  streets  of  this,  the  oldest  of  Canadian  cities, 
and  to  see  some  of  its  sii»:li'ts.  The  view  from 
different  points  was  unspeakably  grand  to  us  after 
being  so  long  pent  up  in  a  ship.  Indeed,  in  itself 
it  is  very  fine.  Cape  Diamond  and  the  fortifica- 
tions hanging  high  in  the  air  —  the  great  basin 
below,  like  a  sheet  of  the  purest  silver,  where  a 
hundred  sail  of  ihe  line  might  ride  in  safety  —  the 
village  spires,  and  the  fields  of  every  shape  dotted 
with  countless  white  cottages,  the  silver  thread  of 
the  River  St.  Charles  windinor  hither  and  thither 
among  them,  and,  in  the  distance,  shutting  in  this 
varied    loveliness,    a    range    of    lofty    mountains, 


W^:" 


Montcalni's  Skull. 


19 


p'lrple  and  blue  by  turns,  standing  out  against  the 
sky  in  every  form  of  picturesque  beauty,  made 
altogether  a  glorious  panorama. 

Of  course,  the  great  sight  of  sights  to  a  Briton  is 
the  field  of  battle  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  where 
Wolfe,  on  the  loth  September,  1759,  won  for  us, 
at  the  price  of  his  own  life,  the  magnificent  colonies 
of  what  is  now  British  North  America.  Wolfe's 
body  was  taken  to  England  for  burial,  and  now 
lies  in  the  vault  below  the  parish  church  at  Green- 
wich. That  of  Montcalm,  the  French  general, 
who,  also,  was  killed  in  the  battle,  was  buried  in 
the  Ursuline  Convent,  where  they  showed  us  a 
ghastly  relic  of  him  —  his  fleshless,  eyeless  skull, 
kept  now  in  a  little  glass  case,  as  if  it  were  a  thing 
fit  to  be  exhibited.  It  was  to  me  a  horrible  sight 
to  look  at  the  grinning  death's  head,  and  think 
that  it  was  once  the  seat  of  the  gallant  spirit  who 
died  so  nobly  at  his  post.  His  virtues,  which  all 
honor,  are  his  fitting  memorial  in  every  mind, 
and  his  appropriate  monument  is  the  tomb  erected 
by  his  victorious  enemies — not  this  parading  him 
in  the  dishonor  and  humiliation  of  the  grave.  It 
is  the  spirit  of  which  we  speak  when  we  talk  of  a 
hero,  and  there  is  nothing  in  common  with  it  and 
the  poor  mouldering  skull  that  once  contained  it. 

Quebec  is,  as  I  have  said,  a  beautiful  place  in 
summer,  but  it  must  be  bad  enough  in  winter. 
The  snow  lies  till  well  on  in  May,  and  it  is  so  deep 
that,  in  the  country,  every  thing  but  houses  and 


20 


Toronto, 


4 

1 

■f  1 

I    1!  "        ■ 


trees  and  other  liigli  olyects  are  covered.  The 
whole  landscape  is  one  unbroken  sheet  of  white, 
over  which  you  may  go  in  any  direction  without 
meeting  or  seeing  the  smallest  obstacle.  But  peo- 
ple get  used  to  any  thing ;  and  even  the  terrible 
cold  is  so  met  and  resisted  by  double  window- 
sashes,  and  fur  caps,  and  gloves,  and  coats,  that  the 
inhabitants  seem  actually  to  enjoy  it. 

When  we  got  to  Toronto,  we  found  that  my 
brother  Robert,  who  was  already  in  the  country, 
had  been  travellino;  in  different  directions  to  look 
out  a  place  for  us,  and  had  at  length  bought  a 
farm  in  the  township  of  Bidport,  on  the  banks  of 
the  River  St.  Clair.  We  therefore  stayed  no 
longer  in  Toronto  than  possible,  but  it  took  us 
some  time  to  get  every  thing  ])ut  right  after  the 
voyage,  and  we  were  further  detained  by  a  letter 
from  my  brother,  telling  us  that  the  house  on  the 
farm  could  not  be  got  ready  for  us  for  a  week  or 
two  longer.  We  had  thus  plenty  of  time  to  look 
about  us,  and  strange  enough  every  thing  seemed. 
The  town  is  very  different  now-a-days ;  but,  then, 
it  was  a  strafyolino;  collection  of  wooden  houses,  of 
all  sizes  and  shapes,  a  large  one  next  to  a  miserable 
one-story  shell,  placed  with  its  end  to  the  street. 
There  were  a  few  brick  houses,  but  only  a  few. 
The  streets  were  like  a  newly-ploughed  field  in 
rainy  weather,  for  mud,  the  wagons  often  sinking 
almost  to  the  axles  in  it.  There  was  no  .gas,  and 
the  pavements  were  both  -few  and  bad.     It  has 


T 


Mud-roads. 


21 


3d.     The 

1 

of  white, 

'■'. 

without 

1 

But  peo- 

1 

e  terrible 

window- 

that  the 

V 

tliat  my 

^r 

country. 

- 

s  to  look 

■.y,. 

ought  a 

J 

janks  of 

m 

lyed    no 

S 

took   us 

fl 

fter  the 

'-^I^^K 

a  letter 

i^^H 

!  on  the 

'fl 

veek  or 

m 

to  look 

m 

seemed. 

m 

t,  then. 

'S 

uses,  of 

.  ■.'. 

iserable 

^; 

street. 

H^. 

a  few. 

-'a 

ield  in 

-.- 

sinking 

as,  and 
It  has 


come  to  be  a  fine  place  now,  but  to  us  it  seemed 
very  wretched.  While  we  were  waiting,  we  laid 
in  whatever  provision  we  thouglit  we  would  need 
for  a  good  while,  every  thing  being  much  cheaper 
in  Toronto  than  away  in  the  bush.  A  month  or 
less  saw  us  moving,  my  sisters  going  with  Andrew 
and  Henry  by  water,  while  Frederic  was  left  be- 
hind in  an  office ;  Robert,  my  Canadian  brother, 
and  I  going  by  land,  to  get  some  business  done  up 
the  country  as  we  passed.  The  stage  in  which  we 
took  our  places  was  a  huge  affair,  hung  on  leather 
springs,  with  a  broad  shelf  behind,  supported  by 
straps  from  the  upper  corners,  for  the  luggage. 
There  were  three  seats,  the  middle  one  movable, 
which  it  needed  to  be,  as  it  came  exactly  in  the 
centre  of  the  door.  The  machine  and  its  load  were 
drawn  by  four  horses,  rough  enough,  but  of  good 
bottom,  as  they  say.  The  first  few  miles  were 
very  pleasant,  for  they  had  been  macadamized, 
but  after  that,  what  travelling !  The  roads  had 
not  yet  dried  up,  after  the  spring  rains  and  thaws, 
and  as  they  were  only  mud,  and  much  travelled, 
the  most  the  horses  could  do  was  to  pull  us  through 
at  a  walk.  When  we  came  to  a  very  deep  hole, 
we  had  to  get  out  till  the  coach  floundered  throuf!;h 
it.  Every,  here  and  there,  where  the  water  had 
overflowed  from  the  bush  and  washed  the  road 
completely  away  in  its  passage  across  it,  the  ground 
was  strewn  with  rails  which  had  been  taken  from 
the  nearest  fences  to  hoist  out  some  wheels  that 


i'l 


h::' 


III 

Ml 


22 


A  Rough  Ride. 


**    \ 


had  stuck  fast.  At  some  places  there  liad  heen  a 
wholesale  robbery  of  rails,  which  had  been  thrown 
into  a  gap  of  this  kind  in  the  road,  till  it  was  prac- 
ticable for  travellers  or  wagons.  After  a  time  we 
had  to  bid  adieu  to  the  comforts  of  a  coaoh  and  be- 
take ourselves  to  a  great  open  M-agon  —  a  mere 
strong  box,  set  on  four  wheels,  with  pieces  of  plank 
hiid  across  the  top  for  seats.  In  this  affair  —  some 
ten  feet  lono;  and  about  four  broad  —  we  went 
through  some  of  the  worst  stages.  But,  beyond 
Hamilton,  we  got  back  our  coach  again,  and  for  a 
time  went  on  smoothlv  enouo-h,  till  we  reached  a 
swamp,  which  had  to  be  crossed  on  a  road  made 
of  trees  cut  into  lengths  and  laid  side  by  side,  their 
ends  resting  on  the  trunks  of  others  placed  length- 
wise. You  may  think  how  smooth  it  would  be, 
with  each  log  a  different  size  from  the  one  next  it 
—  a  great  patriarch  of  the  woods  rising  high  be- 
tween "  babes "  half  its  thickness.  The  whole 
fabric  had,  moreover,  sunk  pretty  nearly  to  the 
level  of  the  watei*,  and  the  alder  bushes  every  here 
and  there  overhung  the  edges.  As  we  reached  it 
late  at  night,  and  there  was  neither  moon  nor  stars, 
and  a  yard  too  much  either  way  would  have  sent 
coach  and  all  into  the  water,  men  had  to  be  got 
from  the  nearest  house  to  go  at  the  horses'  heads 
with  lanterns,  and  the  passengers  were  politely  re- 
quested to  get  out,  and  stumble  on  behind  as  they 
could,  except  two  ladies,  who  were  allowed  to  stay 
and  be  battered  up  and  down  inside,  instead  of 


■^ 


\ 


"v.. 


A  Rouyh  Ride. 


23 


havino"  to  sprawl  on  in  the  dark  with  us.  This 
was  my  first  experience  of  *'  corduroy  roads,"  but 
we  had  several  more  stretches  of  them  before  we 
got  to  our  journey's  end.  I  have  long  ago  learned 
all  the  varieties  of  badness  of  which  roads  are  capa- 
ble, and  questions  whether  "  corduroy"  is  entitled 
to  tlie  first  rank.  Tliere  is  a  kind  made  of  thick 
planks,  laid  side  by  side,  which,  wlien  they  get  old 
and  broken,  may  bid  fair  for  the  palm.  I  have 
seen  a  stout,  elderly  lady,  when  the  coach  was  at 
a  good  trot,  bumped  fairly  against  the  roof  by  a 
sudilen  hole  and  the  shock  against  the  ])lank  at  the 
other  side.  But,  indeed,  "corduroy"  is  dreadful. 
When  we  came  to  it  I  tried  every  thing  to  save  my 
poor  bones  —  sitting  on  my  hands,  or  raising  my 
body  on  them  —  but  it  wa,s  of  little  use ;  on  we 
went,  thump,  thump,  thumping  against  one  log 
after  another,  and  this,  in  the  last  part  of  our  jour- 
ney, with  the  bare  boards  of  an  open  wagon  for 
seats  once  more.  It  wiis  bad  enouo;h  in  the  coach 
with  stuffed  seats,  but  it  was  awful  on  the  hard 
wood.  But  w^e  got  through  without  an  actual  up- 
set or  breakdown,  which  is  more  than  a  friend  of 
mine  could  say,  for  the  coacli  in  which  he  was 
went  into  so  deep  a  mud-hole  at  one  part  of  the 
road,  that  it  fairly  overturned,  throwing  the  passen- 
gers on  the  top  of  one  another  inside,  and  leaving 
them  no  way  of  exit,  when  they  came  to  themselves, 
but  to  crawl  out  throuixh  the  window.  It  was  fine 
weather,  however,  and  the  leaves  were  making  the 


■"> 


■  i 


24 


Our  Log-lwusc. 


I 


u    ; 


I 


m  f 


woods  ocautiful,  and  tlie  birds  had  ben-un  to  flit 
about,  so  tliat  the  cheerf'uhicss  of  nature  kept  us 
fronri  tliinkin^  mucli  of  our  troubles.  Jt  took  us 
three  days  to  go  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  and  we 
stopped  on  the  way  besides  for  my  brother's  busi- 
ness, so  that  the  rest  of  our  party  had  reached  our 
new  home,  by  their  route,  before  us. 

The  look  of  the  house  which  was  to  be  our 
dwelling  was  novel  enough  to  me,  with  my  old 
ideas  about  houses  still  in  my  head.  It  was  built  a 
little  back  from  the  river,  far  enough  to  give  room 
for  a  garden  when  we  had  time  to  make  one ;  and 
the  trees  had  been  cut  down  from  the  water's  edcje 
to  some  distance  behind  the  house,  to  make  things  a 
little  more  cheery,  and  also  to  prevent  the  risk  of 
any  of  them  falling  on  our  establishment  in  a  high 
wind.  The  house  itself  had,  in  fact,  been  built  of 
the  logs  procured  by  felling  these  patriarchs  of  the 
forest,  every  one  of  which  had,  as  usual  on  Cana- 
dian farms,  been  cut  dow\i.  My  brother  had  left 
special  instructions  to  spaie  some  of  the  smaller 
ones,  but  the  "  chopper  "  had  understood  him  ex- 
actly the  wrong  way,  and  had  cut  down  those 
pointed  out  with  especial  zeal  as  the  objects  of  his 
greatest  dislike.  Building  the  house  must  have 
been  very  heavy  work,  for  it  was  made  of  great 
logs,  the  whole  thickness  of  the  trees,  piled  one  on 
another,  a  story  and  a  half  high.  The  neighbors 
had  made  what  they  call  a  "  bee  "  to  help  to  "  raise" 
it  —  that   is,   they  had   come    without   expecting 


k    «k^,' 


How  it  was  Built. 


25 


I  to  flit 
ko})t  us 
took  us 
and  we 
's  busi- 
lied  our 

be  our 

my  old 

s  built  a 

ve  room 

le ;   and 

!r's  edfre 

tilings  a 

e  risk  of 

1  a  high 

built  of 

s  of  the 

n  Cana- 

had  left 

smaller 

lim  ex- 

n  those 

s  of  his 

st  have 

Df  great 

one  on 

iighbors 

"  raise" 

:pecting 


wa^-es,  but  witli  tho  understaiidini!;;  that  each  would 

^ot  l>ack   from   us,   wljcn   he   waiiti'*!    it,    as   many 

days'    labor   as    he    had    ^iveii.     They    nianaixc   a 

dirticult  business  like  that  of  *2;ettiu<x  u|)  the  outside 

of  a  lofT  house,  more  easily  than  one  would  tliink. 

First,  the  lon;s  are  cut  into  tlie  })ro})er  len<iths  for 

the  sides  and  the  ends ;  then  they  are  notched  at 

the  end  to   make    them   keep    tooether  ;  then  an 

equal  number  are  \)\\t  at  the  four  sides  to  be  ready, 

and  the  first  stage  is  over.     The  next  step  is  to  get 

four  laid  in  the  proper  positions  on  the  gi-ound,  and 

then  to  get  up  the  rest,  layer  by  layer,  on  the  top 

of  each  other,  till  the  whole  are  in  their  j)laces.     It 

is  a  terrible  strain  on  the  men,  for  there  is  nothing 

but  sheer  strength  to  help  tliem,  except  that  they 

put  ]ioles  from  the  top  of  the  last  log  raised,  to  the 

ground,  and  then,  with  handsjxjkes,  force  another 

up  tlie  slope  to  its  destined  position.     I  have  known 

many  men  terribly  wrenched  by  the  handspoke  of 

some   other    one   slipping   and    letting   the    whole 

weight  of  one  end  come  upon  the  person  next  him. 

The    logs  at  the   front    and   back   were  all    fully 

twenty  feet  long,  and  some  of  them  eighteen  inches 

thick,  so  tliat  you  may  iudo;e  their  weio-ht.     After 

the  square  frame  had  been  thus  piled  up,  windows 

and  a  door  were  cut  with  axes,  a  board  at  the  sides 

of  each  keeping  the  ends  of  the  logs  in  their  places. 

You  may  wonder   how    this  could  be   done,   but 

backwoodsmen  are  so  skilful  with  the  axe  that  it 

was  done  veiy  neatly.     The  sashes  for  the  windows 

3 


26 


Oar  Log-honne, 


i'l 


r 


j|;| 


\% 


^\ 


■I.  H 


t 


and  tlie  pljinkin<j;  for  different  parts  of  t)ie  house 
were  got  from  a  saw-mil i  some  distance  off,  across 
tlie  river,  and  my  brother  put  in  the  glass.  Of 
course  there  were  a  great  many  chinks  between  the 
logs,  but  these  were  filled  up,  as  well  as  ])ossible, 
with  billets  and  ^liips  of  wood,  the  whole  being 
finally  coated  "^-l  made  air-tight  with  mortar. 
Thus  the  logs  looiieu  n.s  if  built  up  with  lime,  the 
great  black  trunks  of  the  trees  alternatino;  with  the 
grey  belts  between.  TIk^  frame  of  the  roof  was 
made  of  round  poles,  flattened  on  the  top,  on  which 
boards  were  put,  and  these  again  were  covered  with 
shingles  —  a  kind  of  wooden  slate  made  of  s[)lit 
pine,  which  answers  very  well.  The  angles  at  the 
ends  were  filled  up  with  logs  fitted  to  the  length, 
and  fixed  in  their  places  by  wooden  pins  driven 
through  the  roof-pole  at  each  corner.  On  the 
whole  house  there  were  no  nails  used  at  all,  except 
on  tiie  roof.  Wooden  pins,  and  an  auger  to  make 
holes,  made  every  thing  fast.  Inside,  it  was  an  ex- 
traordinary })lace.  The  floor  was  paved  with  pine 
slabs,  the  outer  planks  cut  from  logs,  with  the 
round  side  do>vn,  and  fixed  by  wooden  pins  to 
sleepers  made  of  thin  young  trees,  cut  the  right 
lengths.  Overhead,  a  number  of  similar  round 
poles,  about  the  tliickness  of  a  man's  leg,  supported 
the  floor  of  the  upper  story,  which  was  to  be  my 
sisters'  bedroom.  They  had  planks,  however,  in- 
stead of  boards,  in  honor  of  their  sex,  perhaps. 
They  had  to  climb  to  this  jjaradise  by  an  extraor- 


i  ;.4  w^i 


llow  it  wats  Built. 


27 


fliiiarv  ladder,  inado  with  the  never-l'ailinii;  axe  and 
aiioiT,  out  ot'irrcc'M,  round  wood.  I  used  always  to 
tliink  of  lvol)inson  Crusoe  m'ttin<T  into  his  t'ortihca- 
tion,  wIu'U  I  saw  them  goin<:;  uj). 

Tlu'  chininev  was  a  wonderful  atlair.  It  was 
lar<j;e  enoui:;h  to  let  you  walk  up  most  of  the  May, 
and  could  hold,  I  can't  tell  how  many  loijs,  i'our  or 
five  feet  lonn;,  for  a  fire.  It  was  built  of  mud,  and 
when  whitewashed  looked  very  well  —  at  least  we 
came  to  like  it ;  it  was  so  clean  and  cheerful  in  tlio 
winter  time.  But  we  had  to  pull  it  down  some 
years  after,  and  get  one  built  of  brick,  as  it  was 
always  getting  out  of  repair.  A  ])artition  was  put 
up 'across  the  middle  and  then  divided  again,  and 
this  made  two  bedrooms  for  my  brothers,  and  left 
us  our  solitary  room,  which  was  to  serve  for  kitchen, 
dining-room,  and  drawing-room,  the  outer  door 
opening  into  it.  As  to  paint,  it  was  out  of  the 
question,  but  we  had  lime  for  wliitewash,  and  what 
with  it  and  some  newspapers  my  brothers  pasted  up 
in  their  bedrooms,  and  a  few  })ictures  we  brought 
from  homo,  we  thought  we  were  quite  stylish. 
There  was  no  house  any  better,  at  any  rate,  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  I  su})pose  we  judged  by  that. 

To  keep  out  the  rain  and  the  cold  —  for  rats 
were  not  known  on  the  river  for  some  years  after 
—  the  wliole  of  the  bottom  loo;  outside  had  to  bo 
banked  up  after  our  arrival,  the  earth  being  dug  up 
all  round  and  thrown  aijainst  it.  The  miserable 
shanties  in  which  some  settlers  mana<xe  to  live  for 


"""^ 


3  i 

h 

' '  1 

28 


Our  Log-house. 


. 

fii! 

1 

- 

i 

.'i 

!     F 


i''t  P 


■a  time  are  half  buried  by  this  process,  and  the  very 
wretched  ones  built  by  laborers  alongside  public 
works  wliile  making,  look  more  like  natural  mounds 
than  human  habitations.  I  have  often  thought  it 
was  a  curious  thing  to  see  how  people,  when  in  the 
same  or  nearly  the  same  circumstances,  fall  upon 
similar  {  ans.  Some  of  the  Indians  in  America, 
for  instance,  used  to  sink  a  pit  for  a  house,  and 
build  it  round  with  stones,  putting  a  roof  on  the 
walls,  which  reached  only  a  little  above  the  ground  ; 
and  antiquarians  tell  us  that  the  early  Scotch  did 
the  very  same.  Then  Xenophon,  long  ago,  and 
Curzon,  in  our  day,  tell  us  how  tliey  were  often 
like  to  fall  through  the  roof  of  the  houses  in  Anne- 
nia  into  the  middle  of  the  family,  huddled  up,  with 
their  oxen,  beneath,  their  dwellintTs  beino;  burrowed 
into  the  side  of  a  slope,  and  showing  no  signs  of 
their  presence  from  above.  But  our  house  was 
not  like  this,  I  am  happy  to  say  ;  it  was  qyi  the 
ground,  not  in  it,  and  was  very  warm  for  Canada, 
when  the  wind  did  not  come  against  the  door,  which 
was  a  very  poor  one  of  inch-thick  wood.  The 
thickness  of  the  logs  kept  out  the  cold  wonderfully, 
though  that  is  a  very  ambiguous  word  for  a  Cana- 
dian house,  which  would  need  to  be  made  two  logs 
thick  to  be  warm  without  tremendous  fires — at  least, 
in  the  o})en  unsheltered  country.  The  houses  made 
of  what  they  call ''  clap-boards  "  —  that  is,  of  naiTow 
boards  three-quarters  of  an  inch  thick,  and  lathed 
and  plastered  inside  —  are  very  much  colder;  in- 


W 


We  get  Oxen  and  Cows. 


29 


deed,  they  are,  in  my  opinion,  awful,  in  any  part 
of  them  where  a  fire  is  not  kept  up  all  winter. 

One  thing  stinick  me  very  much,  that  locks  and 
bolts  seemed  to  be  thought  very  useless  things. 
Most  of  the  doors  had  only  wooden  latches,  made 
with  an  axe  or  a  knife,  and  fastened  at  night  by  a 
wooden  ])in  stuck  in  above  the  bar.  We  got  water 
from  the  river  close  at  hand  ;  a  plank  run  out  into 
the  stream  forming  what  they  called  "a  wharf,"  to 
let  us  'get  depth  enough  for  our  pitchers  and  pails. 

Besides  the  house,  my  brother  had  go4  a  barn 
built  not  far  from  the  house  —  of  course  a  locj  one 
—  on  the  piece  clear  of  trees.  It  was  about  the 
size  of  the  house,  but  the  chinks  between  the  logs 
were  not  so  carefully  filled  up  as  in  it.  The  squir- 
rels, indeed,  soon  found  this  out,  and  were  con- 
stant]} running  in  and  out  when  we  had  any  grain 
in  it.  The  upper  part  was  to  hold  our  hay,  and 
half  of  the  grouj  '  floor  was  for  our  other  crops,  the 
cows  having  !'o  3'emainder  for  their  habitation. 
We  ^/Oijpjit  a  yoke  of  oxen  —  that  is,  two  —  a  few 
days  dfto;-  our  arrival,  and  we  began  with  two 
cows,  on  3  of  them  a  pretty  fair  "  'ker,  but  the 
other,  w)iich  had  been  bought  at  an  extra  price, 
was  chosen  by  Robert  for  its  fine  red  skin,  and 
never  had  given  much  milk,  and  never  did.  The 
oxen.,  great  unwieldy  brutes,  vere  pretty  well 
broken  ;  but  they  weve  j.o  diff^  r'^nt  from  any  thing 
we  had  ever  seen  for  i>lov';i:hinor  or  drawin<r  a  wao;- 
on,  that  we  were  ail  n.  'ler  i«'.raid  of  their  horns  at 

3* 


!'(^; 

30 


Elephant  and  Buckeye. 


il    ■ 


^'?^ 


ill!' '  '^ 


first,  and  not  very  fond  of  having  any  thing  to  do 
with  them.  We  had  bought  a  plough  and  harrows, 
and  I  don't  know  what  else,  before  coming  up, 
and  had  brought  a  great  many  things  besides  from 
England,  so  that  we  had  a  pretty  fair  beginning  in 
farm  implements.  An  ox-wagon  was  very  soon 
added  to  our  purchases  —  a  rough  affair  as  could 
be.  It  was  nothing  but  two  planks  for  the  bottom 
and  one  for  each  side,  with  short  pieces  at  the  ends, 
like  the  wagon-stage,  on  the  road  from  Toi'  j  ?<»  — 
a  long  4)ox  on  four  wheels,  about  the  height  o^  a 
cart.  The  boards  were  quite  loose,  to  let  them  rise 
and  fall  in  going  over  the  roads  when  they  were 
bad.  The  oxen  were  fastened  to  this  machine  by 
a  yoke,  which  is  a  heavy  piece  of  hard  wood,  with 
a  hollow  at  each  end  for  the  back  of  the  necks  of 
the  oxen,  and  an  iron  ring  in  the  middle,  on  the 
under  side,  to  slip  over  a  pin  at  the  end  of  the  wagon- 
pole,  the  oxen  being  secured  to  it  by  two  thiii  collars  of 
a  tough  wood  called  hickory,  which  were  just  pieces 
bent  to  fit  their  deep  necks,  tne  ends  being  pushed 
up  through  two  holes  in  the  yokes  at  each  side,  and 
fastened  by  pins  '-  the  top.  There  was  no  harness 
of  any  kind,  and  no  reins,  a  long  wand  serving  to 
guide  them.  I  used  at  first  to  think  it  was  a  very 
brave  thing  to  put  the  yoke  on  or  take  it  ott\ 

T?he  names  of  our  two  were  Elephant  and  Buck- 
eye, the  one,  as  his  name  showed,  a  great  creature, 
but  as  lazy  as  he  was  huge  ;  the  other,  a  much 
nicer   beast,  somewhat  smaller,  and  a   far   better 


M 


Unpacking  our  Stores. 


31 


g  to  do 
arrows, 
ng  up, 
es  from 
ning  in 
y  soon 
could 
bottom 
le  ends, 

lit  o-^'  a 
em  rise 
J  were 
ine  by 
1,  with 
!cks  of 
on  the 
vagon- 
llars  of 
pieces 
)iislied 
[e,  and 
arness 
iiig  to 
I  veiy 

Buck- 
ature, 
ma«?h 
better 


worker.  They  were  both  red  and  white,  and  so 
patient  and  quiet,  that  I  used  to  be  ashamed  of 
myself  when  I  got  angry  at  them  for  their  solemn 
slowness  and  stupidity.  Had  we  been  judges  of 
cattle  we  might  have  got  much  better  ones  for  the 
money  they  cost  us ;  but  my  brother  Andrew,  who 
bought  them,  had  never  had  any  more  to  do  with 
oxen  till  then  than  to  help  to  eat  them  at  dinner. 
However,  we  never  bought  any  thing  more  from  the 
man  who  sold  us  them. 

Our  first  concern,  when  we  had  got  fairly  into  tho 
house,  was  to  help  to  get  the  furniture  and  luggage 
brouo-ht  from  the  wharf,  two  miles  off,  for  we  had 
to  leave  every  thing  except  our  bedding  there  on 
landing.  It  was  a  great  job  to  get  all  into  the 
wagon,  and  then  to  open  it  after  reaching  tho 
house.  The  wharf  was  a  long  wooden  structure, 
built  of  lofis  driven  into  the  shallow  bed  of  the  river 
for  perhaps  a  hundred  yards  out  to  the  deep  water, 
and  planked  over.  There  was  a  broad  place  at  the 
end  to  turn  a  Avagon,  but  so  much  of  it  was  heaped 
ftp  with  what  they  called  "cordwood" — that  is, 
ft'ood  for  fuel,  cut  four  feet  long  —  that  it  took  some 
management  to  get  this  done.  A  man  whom  we 
fiad  hired  as  servant  of  all  work,  at  two  pounds  and 
his  board  and  lodging  a  month,  brought  down  the 
wagon,  and  I  shall  never  forget  how  we  laughed 
4t  his  shouting  and  roaring  all  the  way  to  the  oxen, 
as  he  walked  at  their  heads  with  a  long  beech  wand 
iu  his  hand.     He  never  ceased  bellowino-  at  them 


y- 


i7^- 


I      t 


t     . 


f   •■! 


m     '■ 


r  .1 

■| 

i  M 

i 

t        ' : '  i 

ii 

■■ 

H 

■■    ? 

1.     ! 
j    1 

'lii 

.      ' 

dv-.w,  • 

iM 


!  ^  Hi 


82 


Unjjacldng  our  Stores. 


in  rough,  angry  names,  except  to  vary  them  by  or- 
ders, such  as  Haw !  Gee !  Whoa !  Hup !  which 
were  very  ridiculous  wlien  roared  at  their  ears  loud 
enouixh  to  have  let  them  know  his  wishes  if  they 
had  been  on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  Some- 
how, every  one  who  drives  oxen  in  Canada  seems 
to  have  got  into  the  same  plan  ;  we  ourselves,  in- 
dc  !,  fell  into  it  mere  than  I  would  have  thought, 
aft  ,  :ine.  When  we  had  bejiun  to  move  the 
luggag. ,  vhat  boxes  on  boxes  had  to  be  lifted  ! 
We  all  lent  a  hand,  but  it  was  hard  work.  There 
was  the  piano,  and  the  eight-day  clock,  in  a  box 
like  a  coffin,  and  carpets,  and  a  huge  wardrobe, 
packed  full  of  I  don't  know  what,  large  enough  to 
have  done  for  a  travelling  show,  and  boxes  of  books, 
and  crockery,  and  tables,  and  a  great  carpenter's 
chest,  not  to  speak  of  barrels  of  oatmeal,  and  flour, 
and  salt,  and  one  of  split  peas.  I  think  the  books 
were  the  lieaviest,  except  that  awful  wardrobe  and 
chest  of  drawers,  which  were  })acked  full  of  some- 
thing. But  they  paid  over  and  over  for  all  the 
trouble  and  weight,  proving  the  greatest  possible 
blessino;.  If  we  had  not  brouixht  them  we  would 
have  turned  half  savages,  I  suj)pose,  for  there  were 
none  to  buy  nearer  tli.m  eiglity  or  ninety  miles, 
and  besides,  we  would  not  have  had  money  to  buy 
them.  We  had  a  whole  set  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's 
charming  stories,  which  did  us  a  world  of  good, 
both  by  helping  us  to  spend  the  winter  evenings 
pleasantly,  by  the  great  amount  of  instruction  in 


■"^ 


"It 


# 


I 


WTiat  some  of  our  Neighbors  brought.  33 

history  and  antiquarian  lore  they  contained,  and  by 
showing  my  young  sisters,  especially,  that  all  the 
world  were  not  like  the  rude  people  about  us. 
They  got  a  taste  for  elegance  and  refinement  from 
them  that  kept  them  ladies  in  their  feelings  while 
they  had  only  the  life  of  servants. 

When  we  had  got  all  the  things  into  the  house, 
the  next  thing  was  to  unpack  them.  A  large  pier- 
glass,  which  would  have  been  very  useful,  but 
rather  out  of  the  way  in  such  a  house,  was  discov- 
ered to  be  shivered  to  fragments  ;  and  some  crock- 
ery had  found  the  shaking  on  the  journey  too  much 
for  its  powers  of  resistance.  That  horrid  wardrobe, 
which  had  sprained  our  backs  to  get  on  tlie  wagon, 
would  barely  go  in  at  the  door,  and  we  were  very 
much  afraid  at  first,  that,  after  bringing  it  more  than 
three  thousand  miles,  w^e  should  have  to  roof  it 
over,  cut  holes  in  it,  and  make  it  a  hen-house.  It 
was  all  but  too  large,  like  the  picture  in  the  "  Vi- 
car of  Wakefield,"  which  would  not  go  in  at  any 
door  when  it  was  brought  home.  There  was  not 
room  for  nearly  all  our  furniture,  and  one  end  of 
my  sister's  loft  was  packed  like  a  broker's  store- 
room with  part  of  it.  My  brothers  being  in  Amer- 
ica before,  had  however  saved  us  from  bringing  as 
outrageous  things  as.  some  who  afterwards  settled 
in  the  neighborhood.  I  remember  one  family  who 
brought  e/er  so  many  huge  heavy  grates,  not  know- 
ing that  there  was  no  coal  in  Canada,  and  that 
they  were  useless.     They  would,  indeed,  be  able  to 


•¥■ 


r&fP 


> 


"■"S-ay. 


'l:j^ 

i, 

'■if            » 
.1-     . 

Ki 


m 


4 

m 


■n  m 


';} 


84         What  some  of  our  Neighbors  brought. 

get  Ohio  coal  now,  in  the  larger  towns  ;  but  there 
was  none  then  anywhere.  The  only  fuel  burned 
all  through  the  country  parts,  in  fireplaces,  is,  still, 
great  thick  pieces  of  split  logs,  four  feet  long.  One 
settler  from  Ireland  had  heard  that  there  were  a 
grejit  many  rattlesnakes  in  Canada ;  and  as  he  had 
been  a  cavalry  volunteer,  and  had  the  accoutre- 
ments, he  brought  a  brass  helmet,  a  regulation 
sabre,  buckskin  breeches,  and  jack-boots  with  him, 
t]i  '.  he  might  march  safely  through  the  jungle 
wiiich  he  suj)})Osed  he  should  find  on  his  route. 
7'he  J  V  ng  clergyman  who  afterwards  came  out 
had  a  different  fear.  He  thouoht  there 'miixht  be 
no  houses  for  him  to  sleep  in  at  nights,  and  brought 
out  a  hammock  to  swing  up  under  the  trees. 
What  he  thought  the  people  to  whom  he  was  to 
preach  lived  in,  I  don't  know ;  perhaps  he  fancied 
we  cooked  our  dinners  under  the  trees,  and  lived 
without  houses,  like  the  Indians.  In  some  coun- 
tries, hannnocks  are  used  in  travelling  through 
uninhabited  places,  on  account  of  the  poisonous 
insects  on  the  ground  and  the  thickness  of  the  vege- 
tation ;  but  in  Canada  such  a  thing  is  never  heard 
of,  houses  being  always  within  reach  in  the  parts  at 
all  settled  ;  and  travellers  sleep  on  the  ground  when 
beyond  the  limits  of  civilization.  But  to  sleep  in 
the  open  air  at  all  makes  one  such  a  figure  before 
morning  with  mosquito-bites,  that  nobody  would  try 
it  a  second  time,  if  he  could  help  it.  I  was  once 
on  a  journey  up  Lake   Huron,  of  which  I  shall 


V 

i 


'>^ 


Hot  days. 


86 


it  tliere 
burned 
is,  still, 
One 
were  a 
he  had 
coutre- 
uhition 
h  him, 
jungle 

route, 
ne  out 
ght  be 
rouo-lit 

trees, 
was  to 
fancied 
I  lived 

coun- 
irouo-li 
sonous 
5  vege- 
heard 
arts  at 
.  when 
eep  in 
before 
Id  try 

once 

shaU 


.« 


speak  by  and  by,  where  we  had  to  sleep  a  night  on 
the  ground,  and,  what  with  ants  running  over  us, 
and  with  the  mosquitoes,  we  had  a  most  ^vretched 
time  of  it.  A  friend  who  was  with  me  had  his  nose 
so  bitten  that  it  was  thicker  above  than  below, 
and  looked  exactly  as  if  it  had  been  turned  upside  * 
down  in  the  dark. 

It  took  us  some  time  to  get  every  tiling  fairly  in 
order,  but  it  was  all  done  after  a  while.  We  were 
all  in  good  health  ;  every  thing  before  us  was  new  ; 
and  the  weather,  though  very  warm,  was  often 
delightful  in  the  evening.  Through  the  day  it  was 
sometimes  very  oppressive,  and  we  had  hot  nights 
now  and  then  that  were  still  worse.  A  sheet 
seemed  as  heavy  as  if  it  had  been  a  pair  of  blankets, 
and  when  we  were  sure  the  door  was  fast,  we  were 
glad  to  throw  even  it  aside.  We  always  took  a 
long  rest  at  noon  till  the  sun  got  somewhat  cooler, 
but  the  heat  was  bad  enough  even  in  the  shade.  I 
have  known  it  pretty  nearly,  if  not  quite,  100° 
some  days  in  the  house.  I  remember  hearing  some 
old  gentlemen  once  talking  about  it,  and  telhng 
each  other  how  they  did  to  escape  it:  the  one 
declared  that  the  coolest  part  of  the  house  was 
below  the  bed,  and  the  other,  a  very  stout  clergy- 
man, said  he  found  the  only  spot  for  study  was  in 

the  cellar.     Captain  W used  to  assert  that  it 

was  often  as  hot  in  Canada  as  in  the  West  Indies. 

My  sisters  never  went  with  so  little  clothing 
before ;  and,  indeed,  it  was  astonishing  how  their 


36 


Bmh  Costumes. 


^m 


ii-ii 


1 

■r 

circumference  collapsed  under  the  influence  of  the 
sun.  As  to  us,  we  thought  only  of  coolness. 
Coarse  straw  hats,  with  broad  brims,  costing  about 
eightpence  apiece,  with  a  liandkerchief  in  the  crown 
to  keep  the  heat  off  the  head  ;  a  shirt  of  blue  cot- 
ton, wide  trovvsers  of  dark  printed  calico,  or,  indeed, 
of  any  thing  thin,  and  boots,  composed  our  dress. 
But  this  was  elaborate,  compared  with  that  adopted 
by  a  gentleman  who  was  leading  a  batchelor  life 
back  in  the  bush  some  distance  from  us.  A  friend 
went  to  see  him  one  day,  and  found  him  frying 
some  bacon  on  a  fire  below  a  tree  before  his  door  ; 
—  a  potato-pot  hanging  by  a  chain  over  part  of  it, 
from  a  bough  —  his  only  dress  being  a  shirt,  boots, 
a  hat,  and  a  belt  round  his  waist,  with  a  knife  in  it. 
He  had  not  tliought  of  any  one  penetrating  to  his 
wilderness  habitation,  and  laughed  as  heartily  at 
being  caught  in  such  a  plight  as  my  friend  did  at 
catching  him.  For  my  part,  I  tliought  I  should  be 
cooler  still  if  I  turned  up  my  shirt-sleeves ;  but  my 
arms  got  forthwith  so  tanned  and  freckled,  that  even 
yet  they  are  more  useful  than  beautiful.  One  day 
there  chanced  to  be  a  torn  place  on  my  shoulder, 
which  I  did  not  notice  on  going  out.  I  thought, 
after  a  time,  that  it  was  very  hot,  but  took  it  for 
granted  it  could  not  be  helped.  When  I  came  in 
at  dinner,  however,  I  was  by  no  means  agreeably 
surprised  when  my  sister  Margaret  called  out  to 
jne,  *'  George,  there's  a  great  blister  on  your  shoul- 
der," which  sure  enougli  there  was.  I  took  care 
to  have  always  a  whole  shirt  after  that. 


4 

V 

i 


T 


5 
f 


'"^ 


Siinrstrokes. 


37 


i 


care 


We  had  hardly  been  a  month  on  the  river  when 
we  heard  that  a  man,  fresh  from  Enghmd,  who  liad 
been  at  work  for  a  neighbor,  came  into  the  liouse 
one  afternoon,  saying  he  had  a  headache,  and  died, 
poor  fellow,  in  less  than  an  hour.  He  had  a  sun- 
stroke. Sometimes  those  who  are  thus  seized  fall 
down  at  once  in  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  as  was  the  case 
with  Sir  Charles  Napier  in  Scinde.  I  knew  a  sin- 
o-ular  instance  of  Avhat  the  sun  sometimes  does,  in 
tiic  case  of  a  young  man,  a  plumber  b}""  trade,  who 
had  been  working  on  a  roof  in  one  of  the  towns  on 
a  hot  day.  He  was  struck  down  in  an  instant,  and 
was  only  saved  from  death  by  a  fellow-workman. 
For  a  time  he  lost  his  reason,  but  that  gradually 
caine  back.  He  lo.>t  the  power  of  every  part  of  his 
body,  however,  except  his  head,  nothing  remaining 
alive,  you  may  say,  but  that.  He  could  move  or 
control  his  eyes,  mouth,  and  neck,  but  that  was  all. 
He  had  been  a  strong  man,  but  he  wasted  away 
till  his  legs  and  arms  were  not  thicker  than  a 
child's.  Yet  he  got  much  better  eventually,  after 
being  bedridden  for  several  years,  and  when  I  last 
was  at  his  house,  could  creep  about  on  two  crutches. 

I  used  to  pity  my  sisters,  who  had  to  work  over 
the  fire,  cooking  for  us.  It  was  bad  enough  for 
girls  who  had  just  left  a  fashionable  .  nool  in  Eng- 
land, and  were  quite  young  yet,  to  do  work  which 
hitherto  they  had  always  had  done  for  them,  but  to 
have  to  stoop  over  a  fire  in  scorching  hot  weather 

must  have   been  very  exhausting.     They  had   to 

4 


1 

(.' 

|m 

1 

J 

.  1 

[jr 

:    1 

1  pi 

.^'1 

r 

r 

r 

i! 
■:!f 

'>■   :■ 
t       i 

! 

,:! 

38 


G-oing  to  Mill. 


bake  in  a  large  iron  pot,  set  upon  embers,  and  cov- 
ered with  them  over  tlie  lid  ;  and  the  dinner  had  to 
be  cooked  on  the  logs  in  the  kitchen  fireplace,  until 
we  thought  of  setting  up  a  contrivance  made  by  lay- 
ing a  stout  stick  on  two  upright  forked  ones,  driven 
into  the  ground  at  each  end  of  a  fire  kindled  out- 
side, and  hanging  the  pots  from  it.  While  I  think 
of  it,  what  a  source  of  annoyance  the  cooking  on 
the  logs  in  the  fireplace  was  before  we  got  a  crane  \/- 
I  remember  we  once  had  a  large  brass  panful  of 
rasnberry  jam,  nicely  poised,  as  we  thought,  on  the 
burning  logs,  and  just  ready  to  be  lifted  off,  when, 
lo  I  some  of  the  firewood  below  gave  way  and  down 
it  went  into  the  ashes  !  Baking  was  a  hard  art  to 
learn.  What  bread  we  had  to  eat  at  first !  We 
used  to  quote  Hood's  lines  — 

"  Who  has  not  heard  of  home-made  bread  — 
That  heavy  compound  of  putty  and  lead  1  " 

But  practice,  and  a  few  lessons  from  a  neighbor's 
wife,  made  my  sisters  quite  expert  at  it.  We  had 
some  trouble  in  getting  flour,  however,  after  our 
first  stock  ran  out.  The  mill  was  five  miles  off, 
and,  as  we  had  only  oxen,  it  was  a  tedious  job  get- 
ting to  it  and  back  again.  One  of  my  brothers 
used  to  set  off  at  five  in  the  morning,  with  his 
breakfast  over,  and  was  not  back  again  till  nine  or 
ten  at  night  —  that  is,  after  we  had  wheat  of  our 
own.  It  had  to  be  ground  while  he  waited.  But 
it  was  not  all  lost  time,  for  the  shoemaker's  was 


■<-■;« 


Our  part  of  the  houseivork. 


39 


crane  W 


near  tlie  mill,  and  we  always  made  the  same  jour- 
ney do  for  both.  In  winter  we  were  sometimes 
badly  off  when  our  flour  ran  short.  On  fjjetting  to 
the  mill,  we,  at  times,  found  the  wheel  frozen  hard, 
and  that  the  miller  had  no  flour  of  his  own  to  sell. 
I  have  known  us  for  a  fortnight  having  to  use  po- 
tatoes instead  of  bread,  when  our  neighbors  hap- 
pened to  be  as  ill  provided  as  we,  and  could  not 
lend  us  a  "  baking." 

But  bakincT  was  not  all  that  had  to  be  done  in  a 
house  like  ours,  with  so  many  men  in  it.  No  ser- 
vants could  be  had ;  the  girls  round,  even  when 
their  fathers  had  been  laborers  in  England,  were 
quite  above  going  out  to  service,  so  that  my  sisters 
had  their  hands  full.  We  tried  to  help  them  as 
much  as  we  could,  brinofinj;  in  the  wood  for  tho 
fire,  and  carrying  all  the^  water  from  the  river. 
Indeed,  I  used  to  think  it  almost  a  pleasure  to  fetch 
the  water,  the  river  was  so  beautifullv  clear. 
Never  was  crystal  more  transparent.  I  was  wont 
to  idle  as  well  as  work  while  thus  employed,  looking 
at  the  beautiful  stones  and  pebbles  that  lay  at  the 
bottom,  ftir  beyond  the  end  of  the  plank  that  served 
for  our  "  wharf." 


I 


i- 


i 

4|B 

-1      ., 

1  :     ' 

•;.r 


!  ^e 


'  ^  I! 


■\] 


lii 

li 
11 


40 


Clearing  the  Land 


CHAPTER    III. 

Clearin;^  the  land.  — David's  brafr;,nng,  and  the  end  of  it.  —  Burning 
the  l()f,^-lu'aps.  —  Our  lo^-^^inj^  bee.  —  What  pri'jndico  can  do. — 
Our  fences  an<l  crops  nearly  burned.  —  The  woods  on  lire. — 
Building  a  snake  fence. — "Shingle"  pigs  give  ua  sore  trouble. 
—  "Breacliy  "  horses  and  cattle. 

n^HE  first  tliino;  that  had  to  be  done  with  the  land 
-^  was  to  make  a  farm  of  it,  by  cutting  do'  xnd 
burning  as  many  trees  as  we  could  by  the  n.  .  of 
Aufijust,  to  have  some  room  for  sowino;  wlieat  in 
tlie  first  or  second  week  of  September.  It  was  now 
well  on  in  June,  so  that  we  had  very  little  time. 
However,  by  hiring  two  men  to  chop  (we  didn't 
board  or  lodge  them)  and  setting  our  other  hired 
man  to  hel[),  and  with  the  addition  of  what  my 
brothers  Robert  and  David  could  do,  we  expected 
to  get  a  tolerably-sized  field  ready.  Henry  and  I 
were  too  young  to  be  of  much  use  ;  Henry,  the 
elder,  being  only  about  fifteen.  As  to  Andrew,  he 
could  not  bear  such  work,  and  paid  one  of  the  men 
to  work  for  him.  Yet  both  he  and  we  had  all 
quite  enough  to  do,  in  the  lighter  parts  of  the  busi- 
ness. We  had  got  axes  in  Toronto,  and  our  man 
fitted  them  into  the  crooked  handles  which  they 


■K 


*1 


Clearing  the  Land. 


41 


use  in  Canada.  A  Britisli  axe,  with  a  lon^jj,  tliin 
blade,  only  set  tlie  men  a  lau<j;liinrr ;  and,  indeed, 
it  chanied  to  be  a  very  poor  att'air,  for  one  day  the 
whole  face  of  it  flew  off  as  Robert  was  making  a 
furious  cut  with  it  at  a  thistle.  The  Canadian  jLxes 
were  sliaped  like  wedges,  and  it  was  wonderful  to 
see  how  the  men  made  the  chips  fly  out  of  a  tree 
with  tliem.  We  got  u])  in  the  morning  with  the 
sun,  and  went  out  to  work  till  breakfast,  the  men 
wliacking  away  with  all  their  might ;  Nisbet,  our 
own  man,  as  we  called  him,  snorting  at  every  stroke, 
as  if  that  helped  him,  and  my  two  elder  brothers 
using  their  axes  as  well  as  they  could.  We,  younger 
hands,  had,  for  our  part,  to  lop  ofl'  the  branches 
when  the  trees  were  felled.  i\Iy  brothers  soon  got  to 
be  very  fair  choppers,  and  could  finish  a  pretty 
thick  tree  sooner  than  you  would  suppose.  But  it 
was  hard  work,  for  some  of  the  trees  were  very 
large.  One  in  particular,  an  elm,  which  the  two  men 
attacked  at  the  same  time,  was  so  broad  across  the 
stump,  after  it  was  cut  down,  that  Nisbet,  who  was 
a  fair-sized  man,  when  he  lay  down  across  it,  with 
his  head  at  the  edge  on  one  side,  did  not  reach  with 
his  feet  to  the  other.  But,  thicker  or  thinner,  all 
came  down  as  we  advanced.  The  plan  was  to  make, 
first,  a  slanting  stroke,  and  then  another,  straight 
in,  to  cut  off  the  chip  thus  made  ;  thus  gradually 
reaching  the  middle,  leaving  a  smooth,  flat  stum}) 
about  three  feet  high  underneath,  and  a  slope  in- 
wards above.     The  one  side  done,  they  began  the 


m 


Clearing  the  Land, 


:   'I':  I 


,;;,.., .| 


ul 


i      '-it 


same  jirocess  with  the  other,  hacking  away  chip  aftef 
chip  from  the  butt,  till  there  was  not  enough  left 
to  support  the  mass  above.  Then  came  the  signal 
of  the  approacliing  fall  by  a  loud  crack  of  the  thin 
strip  that  was  left  uncut ;  on  hearing  which,  we 
looked  up  to  see  which  way  the  huge  shaft  was 
■coming,  and  would  take  to  our  heels  out  of  its 
reach,  if  it  threatened  to  fall  in  our  direction.  It 
is  wonderful,  however,  how  exactly  a  skilful  chop- 
per can  determine  beforehand  how  a  tree  shall  come 
down.  They  sometimes  manage,  indeed,  to  aim 
one  so  fairly  at  a  smaller  one,  close  at  hand,  as  to 
send  it,  also,  to  the  ground  with  the  blow.  Acci- 
dents rarely  haj)pen,  though,  sometimes,  a  poor  man 
runs  the  wrong  way  and  gets  killed.  What  a  noise 
the  great  monarchs  of  the  forest  made  as  they  thun- 
dered down  I  It  was  like  firing  off  a  great  cannon  ; 
and  right  glad  we  were  when  we  had  a  good  many 
such  artillery  to  fire  ofi'  in  a  day.  But  it  was  often 
dreadfully  hot  work,  and  my  brothers  seemed  as  if 
they  should  never  drink  enough.  I  used  to  bring 
them  a  small  pailful  of  water  at  a  time,  and  put  it 
on  the  sliady  side  of  a  stump,  covering  it  over  with 
some  green  thing  besides,  to  keep  it  cool.  The 
cows  and  oxen  seemed  to  take  as  much  pleasure  as 
ourselves  in  our  progress,  for  no  sooner  was  a  tree 
down  than  they  would  be  among  its  branches, 
munching  off  the  tender  ends  as  if  they  were  great 
delicacies  in  their  eyes.  It  was  harder  to  keep  them 
out  of  harm's  way  than  ourselves,  and  many  a  time 


lip  aftef 
igh  left 
3  signal 
;lie  thin 
icli,  we 
aft  was 
t  of  its 
on.     It 
il  chop- 
ill  come 
to  aim 
id,  as  to 
Acci- 
Dor  man 
;  a  noise 
?.j  thun- 
annon  ; 
d  many 
as  often 
ed  as  if 
0  bring 
d  put  it 
rer  with 
The 
asure  as 
is  a  tree 
ianches, 
re  £rveat 
v[)  them 
y  a  time 


David's  Bragging^  and  the  end  of  it.         45 

T  was  half  afraid  a  tree  would  be  down  on  me  be- 
fore I  cot  them  out  of  dano;er.  Indeed,  we  had  one 
loss,  though  only  a  small  one.  AVe  had  been  talk- 
ing over  night  about  cattle  being  killed,  and  David, 
who  was  always  a  great  brag,  had  told  us  that  "  he 
tliought  it  all  stupidity  ;  he  didn't  know  how  people 
killed  beasts ;  he  could  chop  for  years  and  never 
hurt  any  thing,  if  there  were  ever  so  many  cattle 
about.''  Next  morning,  however,  before  breakfast, 
we  were  all  hard  at  work,  and  the  oxen  and  the 
cows  were  busy  with  the  twigs  as  usual,  when  a 
fine  little  calf  we  had  got  with  one  of  the  cows, 
wandered  off  in  David's  direction,  just  as  a  tree 
he  was  at  was  about  to  fall ;  and,  presently,  while 
he  was  all  excitement  about  its  going  the  right  way 
for  himself,  it  was  down  smash  on  the  poor  calf, 
which  was,  of  course,  gone  in  a  moment.  We 
were  sorry  for  the  unfortunate  little  creature,  but 
we  could  not  help  laughing  amidst  all  at  the  face 
David  put  on.  "It  was  very  singular  —  very. 
He  couldn't  account  for  it ;  how  could  he  think  a 
calf  would  leave  its  mother  ?  "  But  he  said  no 
more  about  the  stupidity  of  people  who  killed  oxen 
or  cows  while  chopping. 

Working  hard  every  day,  it  was  surprising  what 
a  piece  we  soon  felled.  When  we  had  got  as  much 
down  as  we  thought  we  could  clear  off  in  time  for 
the  wheat,  we  gave  the  rest  a  respite  for  awhile, 
and  set  to  getting  rid  of  those  we  had  already  over- 
tlu'own.     The  straichtest  of  them  were  selected  for 


wm 


U    :       1!1 


^H 


ji 

i 

1  *■        »f';' : 

;U 

■»!W| 


il  '.     i 


44 


Burning  the  Logs. 


rails,  with  which  to  fence  our  intended  field ;  all 
the  others  were  to  be  remorselessly  burned,  stock 
and  branch.  The  first  step  toward  this  had  been 
taken  already,  by  us  lads  having  cut  off  the  branches 
from  each  tree  as  it  was  felled,  and  heaped  them 
together  in  different  spots.  The  trunks  of  the  trees 
had  next  to  be  cut  into  pieces  ab  ten  feet  long, 
those  intended  for  rails  being  left  somewhat  longer. 
I  wonder  how  often  the  axes  rose  and  fell  durino; 
these  weeks.  Even  my  brothers  began  to  be  able 
to  use  them  more  skilfully,  their  stumps  beginning 
to  look  smooth  and  clean  cut,  instead  of  being  hacked 
in  a  thousand  ridges,  as  at  first.  How  an  English 
carpenter's  heart  would  have  grieved  over  the  de- 
struction of  so  much  splendid  wood !  The  finest 
black  walnut,  and  oak,  and  maple,  was  slashed  at 
from  morning  to  night,  with  no  thought  on  our 
parts  but  to  get  it  out  of  the  way  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible. ! 

Every  thing  was,  at  last,  ready  for  the  grand  fin- 
ishing act,  but  that  required  the  help  of  some  neigh- 
bors, so  that  we  had  to  call  another  "  bee."  The 
logs  had  to  be  rolled  together  and  piled  up  for  burn- 
ing, which  would  have  taken  us  too  long  if  left  to 
ourselves  alone.  We  got  a  good  woman  from  a  farm 
not  far  off"  to  come  in  to  help  lay  sisters  in  their 
pre])arations,  for  there  is  ahvays  a  great  deal  of 
cookino;  on  these  occasions.  Salt  beef  and  salt 
pork  were  to  form  the  centre  dishes  at  the  dinner, 
but  there  was  to  be  a  great  array  of  pies  and  tarts, 


I 
I 


Our  Logging  Bee. 


45 


ield ;  all 
d,  stock 
lad  been 
aranches 
ed  them 
the  trees 
jet  long, 
t  longer. 
I  during 
»  be  able 
eginning 
o;  hacked 
I  English 
r  the  de- 
he  finest 
ashed  at 
b  on  our 
y  as  pos- 

rand  fin- 
lie  neigh- 
."  The 
or  burn- 
if  left  to 
I)m  a  farm 
in  their 
deal  of 
and  salt 
e  dinner, 
md  tarts, 


for  which  we  bought  part  of  the  fruit  across  the  river, 
and,  of  the  rest,  there  were  pumpkins,  which  we 
(T()t  from  settlers  near  at  hand,  and  we  had  T)lunis 
enough,  very  good  though  wild,  from  trees  in  our 
own  bush.  Tea,  with  cream  to  every  one's  taste, 
formed  the  principal  beverage,  though  the  most  of 
the  men  wanted  to  get  whisky  besides.  But  it 
almost  always  leads  to  drunkenness  and  fighting,  so 
that  we  did  without  it.  On  the  day  appointed  there 
was  a  very  good  muster  —  perhaps  twenty  men 
altogether.  They  came  immediately  after  break- 
fast, and  we  took  care  to  be  ready  for  them. 

Our  oxen  were  brought  to  the  ground  with  their 
yoke  on,  and  a  long  chain  fastened  to  the  ring  in  it, 
and  two  of  the  men  brought  each  anotlier  yoke,  so 
that  we  were  noisy  enough,  and  had  plenty  of  ex- 
citement. Two  men  got  it  as  their  task  to  drive, 
others  fixed  the  chains  round  the  logs,  and  drew 
them  as  near  each  other  as  possible,  in  lots  of  about 
six  or  seven,  and  the  rest  had  to  lift  each  lot,  one 
log  on  another,  into  piles.  Henry  and  I  were  set 
to  gather  the  loose  brush  that  was  left,  and  throw  it 
on  tlie  top  of  the  heaps,  and  thrust  the  dry  rotten 
sticks  lying  about,  into  the  holes  between  the  logs, 
to  help  them  to  burn.  It  was  astonishing  to  see 
how  the  oxen  walked  away  with  their  loads.  Stand- 
ing as  quiet  as  if  they  could  not  move,  except  when 
their  tails  were  sent  to  do  duty  on  some  trouble- 
some flies,  their  faces  as  solemnly  stupid  as  possible, 
the  first  shout  of  the  driver  made  them  lean  instantly 


■:wr 


46 


What  Prejudice  ca7i  do. 


it       'I  ;r 


against  their  yoke  in  a  steady  pull,  which  moved 
almost  any  log  to  which  they  miglit  be  chained. 
Horses  would  have  jumped  and  tugged,  and  the  log 
would  have  stuck  where  it  was,  but  the  solid  strain 
of  the  oxen,  their  two  heads  often  together,  and 
their  bodies  far  apart,  was  irresistible.  Off  they 
walked  with  huge  cuts  of  trees,  ten  feet  long,  as  if 
they  had  been  trifles.  It  was  a  wonder  how  they 
could  stand  dragging  such  heavy  weights  over  the 
rough  ground,  with  nothing  but  the  thin  wooden 
collar  round  their  necks,  against  whicli  to  press.  A 
horse  needs  a  padded  collar,  but  an  ox  doesn't  seem 
to  suffer  for  the  want  of  it.  In  Nova  Scotia,  which 
I  afterwards  visited,  and  also  in  Lower  Canada, 
oxen  are  harnessed  by  the  horns,  and  you  are  only 
laughed  at  if  you  say  that  it  seems  cruel.  I  believe 
if  they  were  yoked  by  the  tail  in  any  country,  the 
people  who  use  them  in  that  w^ay  would  stand  up 
for  its  superiority  to  any  other.  Prejudice  is  a 
wonderful  thino;  for  blindino;  men.  I  have  heard 
of  a  gentleman  in  the  East  Indies,  who  felt  for  the 
laborers  having  to  carry  the  earth  from  some  public 
work  they  were  digging,  in  baskets,  on  their  shoul- 
ders, and  got  a  number  of  wheelbarrows  made  for 
them,  showing  them  himself  how  to  use  them,  and 
how  much  better  they  were  than  their  own  plan. 
But,  next  morning,  when  he  came  to  see  how  they 
were  liking  the  new  system,  what  was  his  astonish- 
ment to  find  that  they  had  turned  the  barrows  also 
into  baskets,  carrying  them  on  their  shoulders,  with 
a  man  at  each  handle  and  one  at  the  wheel ! 


w 


rv 


moved 
liained. 
the  log 
1  straii\ 
ler,  and 
Iff  they 
jr.  as  if 
Dw  they 
)ver  the 
wooden 
ess.     A 
I't  seem 
a,  which 
Canada, 
are  only 
;  believe 
rv,  the 
and  up 
ice   is  a 
heard 
for  the 
public 
ir  shoul- 
liade  for 
em,  and 
ivn  plan, 
ow  they 
istonish- 
ows  also 

?rs,  with 
t 


le 


Burning  the  Logs, 


47 


With  a  due  rest  for  dinner  and  supper,  an  extra 
time  being  taken  in  the  middle  of  the  day  to  escape 
the  heat,  and  with  a  wonderful  consumption  of  eat- 
ables, including  beef  and  pork,  pies,  tarts,  pickles, 
puddings,  cakes,  tea,  and  other  things,  at  each 
meal,  we  got  through  the  day  to  the  satisfaction  of 
all,  and  had  now  only  to  get  every  thing  burned 
off. 

The  next  day  it  was  slightly  windy,  which  was 
i\\  our  favor,  and,  still  better,  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing away  from  our  house  and  barn.  The  burning 
was  as  thorough  as  we  could  have  desired,  but  it 
was  hot  work.  We  brought  some  wood  embers 
from  the  house,  and  laid  them  on  the  top  of  one  of 
the  logs,  on  the  side  next  the  wind.  Then  we 
piled  chips  and  splinters  on  them,  which  were  soon 
in  flames,  and  from  them  there  soon  was  a  grand 
blaze  of  the  whole  pile.  Thus  we  went  on,  from 
one  to  another,  until  they  were  all  a-fire.  But 
the  rolling  the  pieces  together  as  they  burned 
away,  and  the  stuffing  odd  ends  into  the  hollows  to 
keep  up  the  flame,  was  wild  work.  We  ran  about 
all  day,  gathering  up  every  bit  of  branch  or  dead 
wood  we  could  find,  to  get  a  clean  sweep  made  of 
every  thing  at  once.  What  we  were  like  when  all 
was  over,  with  our  black  faces  and  hands,  and 
smudged  shirts  and  trowsers,  may  be  easily  fancied. 
But,  after  all,  one  day  was  not  enough  to  get  rid 
of  the  whole.  It  was  days  before  we  got  every 
thing  burned,  the  last  pile  being  made  up  of  the 
fragments  of  all  the  rest  that  still  remained. 


MM 


tm 


I 

It 

i 


m. 


M 


mi  im 


,4; 


ii 


48        Our  Fences  and  Crojps  nearly  harned. 

We  were  fortunate  in  not  having  any  thing  set 
on  fire  which  we  wished  to  keep  from  being  burned. 
I  have  known  of  many  cases  where  dried  leaves 
and  pieces  of  dead  wood,  and  the  thick  roots  of  the 
grass,    and   the  coat   of  vegetable   matter  always 
found  in  the  soil  of  the  forest,  kindled,  in  spite  of 
every  effort  to  prevent  it,  the  fire  running  along, 
far  and   near,   in  the  ground,   and  setting  every 
thing  it  reached  in  a  blaze.     I  remember,   some 
years  after  our  arrival,  Henry  was  one  day  going 
some  distance,  and  thought  it  would  be  as  well, 
before  he  started,  to  fire  some  brush   heaps  that 
were  standing  in  a  field  that  was  being  cleared, 
quite  a  distance  back,  along  the  side  road  ;  but  he 
had  hardly  done  so  and  set  off,  than  my  sisters, 
Margaret  and  Ehza,  who  were  alone  in  the  house, 
noticed  that  the  fire  had  caught  the  ground,  and 
was  making  for  the  strip  at  the  side  of  the  road, 
in  the  direction  of  the  wheat  field.     It  was  leaping 
from  one  thing  to  another,  as  the  wind  carried  it, 
and  had  already  put  the  long  fence  next  it,  run- 
ning alon^  six  or  seven  acres,  in  great  danger.     If 
it  had  once  kindled  that,  it  might  have  swept  on 
toward  the  house  and  barn  and  burned  up  every 
thing  we  had;  but  my  sisters  Avere  too  thorough 
Canadians  by  this  time  to  let  it  have  its  own  way. 
Off  the  two  set  to  the  burning  bank,  and  began  to 
take  down  the  fence  rail  by  rail,  and  carry  each 
across  the  road,  where  the  fire  could  not  reach  them. 
Fortunately  there   was  only  stubble  in  the   field, 


1 


1 


Tf^e  Woods  on  Fire. 


49 


ng  set 

1 

irned. 

'1 

leaves 

# 

of  the 

always 

pite  of 

along, 

every 

1 

1 

t 
1 

,  some 

f  going 
Ls  well, 

ps  that 
cleared. 

but  he 

sisters, 

!  house. 

;,;. 

nd,  and 

lj 

le  road, 

m 

leaping 
rried  it. 

■  \ 

it,  run- 

^'i 

ner.     If 

.'■■& 

vept  on 

■A 

)  every 
lorough 

1 

vn  way. 

.•St 

»egan  to 
ry  each 
3h  them. 

■■fg 

le   field, 

and  the  black  ploughed  earth  checked  tlie  hrc,  but 
it  kept  running  along  the  road,  breaking  out  afresh 
after  they  had  thought  it  was  done,  and  kee])ing 
them  fighting  with  tlie  rails  the  whole  day,  until 
Henry  came  back  at  night.  A  man,  who  passed 
in  a  wagon  when  they  were  in  the  worst  of  their 
trouble,  never  offered  them  any  help,  poor  girls, 
but  drove  on,  "guessing"  they  "  had  a  pretty  tight 
job  tha;'."  Thanks  to  their  activity  there  was  no 
mischief  done  except  the  taking  down  the  fence ; 
but  it  was  a  wonder  it  did  not  hurt  my  sisters,  as 
the  rails  are  so  heavy  that  men  never  lift  more  than 
one  at  a  time,  or  very  seldom. 

Another  instance  occurred  about  the  same  time, 
but  on  a  larger  scale.  One  day  on  looking  east 
from  the  house,  we  noticed,  about  two  miles  off, 
great  clouds  of  smoke  rising  from  the  woods,  and 
of  course  we  were  instantly  off  to  see  what  it  was. 
We  found  that  ground-fire  had  got  into  a  piece  of 
the  forest  which  we  call  the  "  Windfall,"  a  broad 
belt  of  huge  pine  trees,  which  had  been  thrown 
down  by  some  terrible  whirlwind,  I  don't  know 
how  long  before.  Some  of  them  had  already 
mouldered  in  parts ;  others  had  been  charred  by 
some  former  burning,  and  would  have  lasted  for  al- 
most any  length  of  time.  They  lay  on  each  othel 
in  the  wildest  and  thickest  confusion,  making  a 
barricade  that  would  have  kept  back  an  army  of 
giants,  and  reaching  for  miles,  their  great  branches 
rising  in  thousands,  black  and  naked,  into  the  air. 

5 


h    n 


60 


I7ie  Woods  on  Fire. 


I 


\m{ 


The  fire  liad  fairly  caught  them,  and  was  leaping 
and  crackling  from  limb  to  limb,  and  sending  up 
volumes  of  the  densest  smoke.  It  was  a  terrible 
sight  to  see,  and  no  one  could  tell  how  far  it  wouhl 
extend.  We  were  afraid  it  would  spread  to  the 
forest  at  each  side,  and  it  did  catch  many  of  the 
trees  next  it,  fixing  on  them,  sometimes  at  the 
ground,  sometimes  up  among  the  branches,  while, 
sometimes,  the  first  indication  of  their  being  on  fire 
would  be  by  the  dead  part  at  the  very  top,  nearly 
a  hundred  feet,  I  should  think,  in  some  cases,  from 
the  earth,  flaming  out  like  a  star.  At  night  the 
sight  was  grand  in  the  extreme — the  blazing  mass 
of  prostrate  trees  in  the  Windfall,  and  at  its  edges, 
tongues  of  flame,  running  up  the  huge  trunks,  or 
breaking  out  here  and  there  on  their  sides.  At 
one  place  a  field  came  very  near  the  path  of  the 
conflagration,  and  it  was  feared  that,  though  the 
trees  did  not  come  close  enough  to  set  the  fence  on 
fire  by  contact,  it  might  be  kindled  by  the  burning 
twigs  and  inflaiii'^able  matter  that  covered  the 
ground.  A  plough  was  therefore  brought,  and 
several  broad  furrows  were  run  outside,  that  the 
ground-fire  might  thus  be  stopped.  The  plan  was 
effectual,  and  the  fence  remained  untouched ;  but 
the  fire  among  the  dead  pines  spread  day  after  day, 
till  it  had  burned  up  every  thing  before  it,  to  an 
opening  in  the  forest  on  the  other  side,  where  it  at 
last  died  out. 

As  soon  as  the  log-piles  had  been  faii'ly  disposed 


■^. 


Building  a  Snake-fence. 


51 


leaping 
ding  up 
,  terrible 
it  would 
d  to  the 
ly  of  the 
;s  at  the 
3S,  while, 
\cr  on  fire 
►p,  nearly 
ises,  from 
night  the 
zing  mass 
its  edges, 
trunks,  or 
;ides.     At 
Lth  of  the 
lough  the 
e  fence  on 
e  burning 
►vered  the 
lught,   and 
that  the 
e  plan  was 

ched;  but 

after  day, 
re  it,  to  an 

where  it  at 

ly  disposed 


of,  we  had,  for  our  next  job,  to  get  the  rails  put  up 
round  the  field  thus  cleared.  They  were  made, 
from  the  logs  that  had  been  saved  for  the  purpose, 
by  one  of  the  choppers,  whom  we  retained.  First 
of  all,  he  sank  his  axe  into  one  end  of  the  lofj;,  and 


then  h 


the  cleft 


hen  he  put  an  n*on  or  wooden  wedge  nito  the  del 
he  had  made,  and  drove  it  home  with  a  mallet. 
Then,  into  the  crack  made  by  the  first  wedge,  he 
put  a  second,  and  that  made  it  split  so  far  down 
that  only  another  was  generally  needed  to  send  it 
in  two.  The  same  process  was  gone  through  with 
the  halves,  and  then  with  the  i)arts,  until  the  whole 
log  lay  split  into  pieces,  varying  in  thickness  from 
that  of  a  man's  leg,  as  much  again,  as  they  were 
wanted  light  or  heavy.  You  must  remember  that 
they  were  twelve  feet  long.  To  make  them  into 
a  fence,  you  laid  a  line  of  them  down  on  the  ground 
in  a  zigzag,  like  a  row  of  very  broad  V's,  the  end 
of  the  second  resting  on  that  of  the  first,  and  so  on, 
round  the  corners,  till  you  came  to  within  the 
length  of  a  rail  from  where  you  started.  The  va- 
cant space  was  to  be  the  entrance  to  the  field. 
Then  five  or  six  more  were  laid,  one  on  another, 
all  round,  in  the  same  way  —  or  rather,  were  put 
up  in  short,  complete  portions,  till  all  were  in  their 
places.  The  ends,  at  each  side  of  the  entrance, 
were  next  lifted  and  laid  on  pins  put  between  two 
upright  posts  at  each  side.  To  make  a  gate,  we 
had  a  second  set  of  posts,  with  pins,  close  to  the 
others,  and  on  these  pins  rails  were  laid,  wliich 


'i'fT'i 


62 


Building  a  Snake-fencs. 


vM 


«.:ffll  I 


11) 


"^ 


■h 


could  be  taken  out  when  wanted,  and  served  very 
well  for  a  gate,  but  we  boys  almost  always  went 
over  the  fence  rather  than  go  round  to  it.  To 
keep  all  the  rails  in  their  places,  we  had  to  put  up 
what  they  called  "stakes"  at  each  angle  —  that  is, 
we  had  to  take  shorter  rails,  shar])ened  a  little  at 
the  end,  and  push  one  hard  into  the  ground  on 
each  side  of  the  fence,  at  every  overlapping  of  the 
ends  of  the  rails,  leaning  them  firmly  against  the 
top  rail,  so  that  they  crossed  each  other  above. 
The  last  thing  was  to  lay  a  light  rail  all  round 
into  the  crosses  thus  made,  so  as  to  "  lock  "  them, 
and  to  make  the  whole  so  hio-h  that  no  beast  could 
get  over  it. 

We  used  to  laugh  about  what  we  were  told  of 
the  pigs  and  cattle  and  horses  getting  through  and 
over  fences ;  but  we  soon  found  out  that  it  was  no 
laughing  matter.  The  pigs  were  our  first  enemies, 
for,  though  we  had  made  the  lowest  four  rails  very 
close,  as  we  thought,  to  keep  them  out,  we  found 
we  had  not  quite  succeeded.  There  were  some  of  a 
horrible  breed,  which  they  called  the  "  shingle  pig," 
as  thin  as  a  slate,  with  long  snouts,  long  coarse 
bristles,  long  legs,  and  a  belly  like  a  greyhound  — 
creatures  about  as  different  from  an  English  pig  as 
can  be  imagined.  They  could  run  like  a  horse, 
nothing  would  fatten  them,  and  they  could  squeeze 
themselves  sideways  through  an  opening  where  you 
would  have  thought  they  could  never  have  got  in. 
If  any  hollo  vv'  in  the  ground  gave  them  the  chance 


M 


**  Shingle  Piys  "  give  us  sore  trouble.         63 


very 
went 
To 
ut  up 
rat  is, 
tie  at 
i\{.l  on 
of  the 
st  the 
above, 
round 
them, 
t  could 

:old  of 
o-h  and 
was  no 
iiemies. 
Is  very 

found 
|me  of  a 
le  pig," 

coarse 
und  — 

pig  as 

horse, 
squeeze 
ere  you 

got  in. 

chance 


'3 


of  fretting  below  the  raik,  they  were  sure  to  find  it 
out,  and  the  first  tiling  you  would  see,  perhaps, 
would  be  a  ixi'eat  jraunt  skeleton  of  a  sow,  with  six 
or  eight  little  ones,  rooting  away  in  tlic  heart  of 
your  field.  AV'ith  old  fences  they  made  short  work, 
lor  if  there  were  a  })iece  low  and  rickety,  they  would 
fairly  j)usli  it  over  with  their  horrid  long  noses,  and 
enter  with  a  trium})hant  grunt.  Although  they 
miirht  have  spared  our  feelin<rs,  and  left  our  first 
little  field  alone,  they  did  not,  but  never  rested 
snuffing  round  the  fence,  till  they  found  out  a  place 
or  two  below  it  that  had  not  been  closely  enough 
staked,  through  which  they  squeezed  themselves  al- 
most every  day,  until  we  found  out  where  they 
were  and  sto|)ped  them  u{).  The  brutes  were  so 
cunning  that  they  would  never  go  in  before  you, 
but  would  stand  lookino;  round  the  end  of  the  fence 
with  their  wicked  eyes  till  you  were  gone.  Rob- 
ert thought  at  first  he  could  take  reveno;e  on  them, 
and  whip  them  out  of  such  annoying  habits,  and 
whenever  the  cry  was  given  that  "  the  pigs  were 
in,"  if  he  were  within  reach  he  would  rush  for  the 
whip,  and  over  the  fence,  to  give  them  the  weight 
of  it.  But  thev  were  better  at  runnin";  than  he 
was,  and,  though  he  cut  o^'  the  corners  to  try  to 
head  them,  I  don't  know,  that  in  all  the  times  he 
ran  himself  out  of  breath,  he  ever  did  more  than 
make  them  wonder  what  his  intention  could  be  in 
giving  them  such  dreadful  chases.      We  learned  to 

be  wiser  after  a  time,  and  by  keeping  down  our  ill- 

5* 


-w^ 


m'"^ 


I 


ii:  m  I 


m 


■ii" 


i: 


64         '*  Shiuf/le  Pij8  "  ^it'fi  us  sore  trouble. 

nature  and  driving  them  gently,  found  they  would 
make  foi*  the  place  where  they  got  in,  and,  by  going 
out  at  it,  discover  it  to  us.  I  only  once  saw  a  i)ig 
run  down,  and  it  wasn't  a  "  shingle  "  one.  Neither 
Robert,  nor  any  of  us  —  fo  '  we  were  all,  by  his 
orders,  tearing  after  it  in  different  directions  — 
■'ould  come  near  it ;  but  a  man  we  had  at  the  time 
started  ort'  like  an  arrow  in  pursuit,  and  very  soon 
had  it  by  the  hind  leg,  lifting  it  by  which,  the  same 
instant,  to  poor  l)iggy's  great  astonishment,  he  sent  it 
with  a  great  heave  over  the  fence,  down  on  the  grass 
outside.  It  was  a  small  one,  of  course,  else  he 
could  not  have  done  it.  A  gentleman  some  miles 
above  us  used  to  be  terribly  annoyed  by  all  the  pigs 
of  the  neighborhood,  as  he  declared,  getting  round 
the  end  of  his  fence  which  ran  into  the  river,  and 
thought  he  would  cure  matters  by  nmning  it  out  a 
rail  further.  But  they  were  not  to  be  beaten,  and 
w'ould  come  to  the  outside,  and  swim  round  his 
fancied  protection.  He  had  to  add  a  third  length 
of  rail  before  he  stopped  them,  and  it  succeeded 
only  by  the  speed  of  the  current  being  too  great  for 
til  em  to  stem. 

But  pigs  were  not  the  only  w'  Horses 

and  cattle  were  sometimes  a  drea(  trouble.  v 
*' breachy  "  horse,  or  ox,  or  cow—  thn*  is,  one 
given  to  leap  fences  or  break  them  down  —  is  sui  e 
to  lead  all  the  others  in  the  neio-hborhood  into  all 
kinds  of  mischief.  The  gentleman  who  was  so 
worried  by  the  nautical  powers  of  the  pigs,  used  to  be 


**  Breachy  "  llorae*  and  Cattle, 


55 


\'ould 

croing 

a  pig 
either 
jy  his 
ons  — 
e  time 
y  soon 
c  sarao 
1  sent  it 
e  crass 
jlse   he 
e  miles 
he  pigs 
[  romid 
er,  and 
it  out  a 
en,  and 
md   his 
length 
cceeded 
reat  for 

Horses 

)le.       ^ 
is, 

-  is  sui  e 
into  all 
was  so 

sed  to  be 


hall'  distracted  by  a  black  mare,  which  ran  loose  in 
his  neighborhood,  and  led  the  way  into  hit]  fields  to 
a  whole  troop  of  horses,  which,  but  for  her,  would 
have  been  harmless  enough.  If  a  fence  were  weak 
she  would  shove  it  over ;  or  if  firm,  unless  it  were 
very  high  indeed,  she  would  leap  over  it,  generally 
knocking  otf  rails  enough  in  doing  so  to  let  the  oth- 
ers in.  She  took  a  fancy  to  a  fine  field  of  Indian 
corn  he  had  a  little  way  from  his  house,  and  night 
after  night,  when  he  had  fairly  got  into  bed,  he 
would  hea'-  her  crashing  over  the  fence  into  it,  fol- 
lowed by  all  *^  ;  rest.  Of  course  he  had  to  get  up 
and  dress  himself,  and  then,  after  running  about 
half  an  hour,  through  dewy  corn  as  high  as  his 
head,  to  get  them  out  again,  he  had  to  begin  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  to  rebuild  his  broken  rampart. 
Only  think  of  this,  repeated  night  after  night.  I 
used  to  laugh  at  his  nine  or  ten  feet  high  fence, 
which  I  had  to  climb  every  time  I  went  along  the 
river  side  to  see  him,  but  he  always  put  me  ofi:'  by 
saying — "Ah,  you  haven't  a  black  mare  down 
your  way."     And  I  am  happy  to  say  we  had  not. 

The  cattle  were  no  less  accomplished  In  all  forms 
of  field-breaking  villany  than  the  pigs  and  horses. 
We  had  one  brute  of  a  cow,  sometime  after  we  came, 
that  used  deliberately  to  hook  off  the  rails  with  her 
horns,  until  they  were  low  enough  to  let  her  get  her 
forelegs  over,  and  then  she  leaned  heavily  on  the 
rest  until  they  gave  way  before  her,  after  which  she 
would  boldly  march   in.      She  was   an  excellent 


11 


"f 


56 


"  B reach  ij  "  Horses  and  Cattle. 


milker,  so  tliat  we  did  all  we  could  to  cure  her  — 
stickino;  a  boai'd  on  lier  horns,  and  hanii-ino:  another 
over  her  eyes  —  but  she  had  a  decided  taste  for 
fence-breakino;,  and  we  had  at  last  to  sentence  iier 
to  death,  and  take  our  reveno;e  by  eatin<^  her  up, 
through  the  winter,  after  she  had  been  fattened. 


'm 


l;n'' 


I 


v 


'. 


' 


»l 


Harrowinq. 


57 


CHAPTER    IV. 


We  bcpin  our  preparations  for  sowini^. — Gatlfiiofi.  —  Mopquitoes. — 
Ilarnnviii;^  cxperieiu'es.  — A  hu^^ii  liy.  —  Sandtlies.  —  The  poison 
of  insects  and  serpents.  —  Winter  wheat.  —  Tlie  wonders  of  plant- 
life.  —  Our  first  "  sport."  —  Woodpeckers.  — "  Chitnuinks."  — 
The  blue  jay. —  The  blue  bird.  —  The  llight  of  birds. 

WHEN  we  had  got  our  piece  of  ground  all 
cleared,  except  the  great  ugly  stumps,  and 
had  got  our  fence  up,  our  next  job  was  to  get  every 
thing  ready  for  sowing.  First  of  all  the  ashes  had 
to  be  scattered,  a  process  that  liberally  dusted  our 
clothes  and  faces.  Then  we  brought  u})  the  oxen, 
and  fastened  them  by  their  chain  to  the  sharp  end 
of  a  three-cornered  harrow,  and  with  this  we  had  to 
scratch  the  soil,  as  if  just  to  call  its  attention  to  what 
Ave  wished  at  its  hand.  It  was  the  most  solenndy 
slow  work  I  ever  saw,  to  .(^et  over  the  ixround  with 
our  yoke  —  solemn  to  all  but  the  diiver,  but  to  him 
tlie  very  reverse.  The  shoutino-  and  yellino;  on  his 
part  never  stopped,  as  he  had  to  get  them  round  +his 
stumj)  and  clear  of  that  one.  But,  if  you  looked 
only  at  the  oxen,  you  fo^'got  the  noise,  in  watching 
whether  they  moved  at  ail  or  not.  Elephant  would 
litr  his  great  leg  into  tlie  air  and  keej)  it  motionless 
for  a  time,  as  if  he  were  thinking  whether  he  should 


'/: 


hi 

An 
J 11 

)        { 


H] 


%m 


!Z3Se 


58 


i}adjtu8. 


i '  ii 


il! 


M 


ever  set  it  down  again,  and,  of  course.  Buckeye 
could  not  get  on  faster  tlian  his  mate.     I  tried  the 
liarrowing  a  little,  but  I  confess   I  didn't  like  it. 
We  were  persecuted  by  the  gadflies,  which  lighted 
on  the  poor  oxen  and  kept  them  in  constant  excite- 
ment, as,  indeed,  they  well  might.     Wherever  they 
get  a  chance  they  pierce  the  skin  on  the  back  with 
a  sharp  tube,  which  shuts  up  and  draws  out  like  a 
telesco})e,  at  the  end  of  their  body,  protruding  an 
Ciro;  throuii;h  it  into  the  creature  attacked,  and  this 
egg,  when  hatched,  produces  a  grub,  wdiicli  makes  a 
sore  lump  round  it,  and  lives  in- it  till  it  has  attained 
its  full  size,  when  it  comes  out,  lets  itself  fall  to  the 
ground  and  burrows  in  it,  rea})pearing  after  a  time 
as  a  winged  gadfly,  to  torment  other  cattle.     Then 
there  were  the  long  tough  roots  running  in  every 
direction  round  the  stumjis,  and  catching  the  teeth 
of  the  harrow  every  little  while,  giving  the  necks 
of  the  poor  oxen  uncommon  jerks,  and  needing  the 
harrow  to  be  lifted  over  them  each  time.    Tliert'  was 
another  trouble  also,  in  the  shape  of  the  mosquitoes, 
which  worried  driver  and  oxen  alike.     They  are 
tiny  creatures,  but  they  are  nevertheless  a   great 
nuisance.     In  the  woods  in  summer,  or  near  them, 
or,  indeed,  Avherever  there  is  stagnant  water,  they 
arr  suic  to  sound  their  "airy  trump."     The  won- 
derful  ipiickness    of  the  vibration    of  their  wings 
makes  a  singing  noise,  which  ])roclaims  at  once  tlic 
presence  of  even  a  single  tormentor.      They  rise  in 
clouds  iiom  every  pool,  and  even  from  the  rain- 


Mosquitoes. 


59 


ckcye 
•d  the 
ike  it. 
iiilited 
3xcite- 
31'  they 
k  with 
,  Uke  a 
ing  an 
id  this 
lakes  a 
ttaiiied 
i  to  the 
a  time 
Then 
1  every 
le  teeth 
J  necks 
ing  the 
,Q\\  was 
quitoes, 
ley  are 
a   great 
r  til  em, 
er,  thev 
lie  won- 
r  wings 
nice  the 
V  rise  in 
he  rain- 


water barrels  kept  near  houses,  where  they  may  be 
seen  in  myriads,  in  their  first  shape  after  leaving  the 
egg,  as  little  black  creatures  with  large  heads,  and 
tails  perpetually  in  motion,  sculling  themselves  with 
great  speed  hither  and  thither,  but  always  tail  fore- 
most. A  single  night  is  sufficient  to  change  them 
from  this  state,  and  send  them  out  as  full-blown 
mosquitoes,  so  that  even  if  there  be  not  one  in  youi 
room  on  going  to  bed,  you  may  have  the  pleasure 
of  hearing  several  before  morning,  if  you  are  in  the 
habit  of  indulging  in  the  luxury  of  washing  in  rain- 
water, or,  worse  still,  to  find  your  nose,  and  cheeks, 
or  hands,  ornamented  with  itchy  lumps,  which  show 
that  the  enemy  has  been  at  you,  after  all,  while  you 
slept.  In  Canada  they  are  not  half  an  inch  long, 
and,  until  distended  by  blood,  are  so  thin  as  to 
be  nearly  invisible.  Their  instrument  of  torture  is 
a  delicate  sucker,  sticking  down  from  the  head  and 
looking  very  like  a  glass  thread,  the  end  of  it  fur- 
nished with  sharp  edges  which  cut  the  skin.  I  have 
sometimes  let  one  take  its  will  of  tlie  back  of  my 
liiind,  just  to  watch  it.  Down  it  comes,  almost  too 
light  to  be  felt,  then  out  goes  the  lancet,  its  sheath 
serving  for  support  by  bending  up  on  the  surface 
of  the  skin  in  proportion  as  the  sucker  sinks.  A 
sharp  prick  and  the  little  vampire  is  drinking  your 
1)lood.  A  minute,  and  his  thin,  shrivelled  body 
begins  to  get  fuller,  until,  very  soon,  he  is  three 
times  the  mosquito  he  was  when  he  began,  and 
IS  quite  red  with  his  surfeit  shining  through  his 


\M 


m,(- 


w 


tm!iifamm 


'  f  i 


nil 


!!«   >' 


i , 


I' 


ii' 


¥ 


i> 


60 


Mosquitoes. 


sides.  But,  tliougli  he  is  done  you  are  not,  for 
some  jioisouous  secretion  is  instilled  into  the  })unc- 
ture,  which  causes  pain,  inflannnation,  and  swelling, 
lono;  after  he  is  <>one.  We  had  a  little  smooth- 
haired  terrier  which  seemed  to  ])lease  their  taste 
almost  as  much  as  we  ourselves  did.  When  it  2;ot 
into  the  woods,  they  would  settle  on  the  ])oor  brute, 
in  sj)ite  of  all  its  efforts,  till  it  was  almost  black  with 
them.  Horses  and  oxen  m^t  no  rest  from  their  at- 
tacks,  and  between  them  and  the  horse-Hies  1  have 
seen  the  sides  of  the  j)oor  thinos  runm'no;  with  blood. 
**  Dey  say  ebery  ting  has  some  use,"  said  a  negro 
to  me  one  day  ;  "  1  wonder  what  de  mosqueeter's 
good  for?"  So  do  I.  A  clei-gyman  who  once 
visited  us  declared  that  he  thought  they  and  all  such 
pests  were  part  of  what  is  meant  in  the  Bible  by 
the  power  of  the  devil  ;  lut  whether  he  was  right 
or  not  is  beyond  me  to  settle.  Perhaps  they  keep 
off  fevers  from  ar.imals  by  bleeding  them  as  they  do. 
But  you  know  what  Socrates  said,  tliat  it  was  the 
liiiihest  attainment  of  wisdom  to  feel  that  we  kno\v 
nothing,  so  that,  even  if  we  can't  tell  why  they  are 
there,  we  may  be  sure,  that,  it'  we  knew  as  much 
as  we  mio;ht,  we  should  find  that  thev  served  some 
wise  pur])ose.  At  the  same  time  1  have  often  been 
right  glad  to  think  that  the  little  nuisances  must 
surely  have  short  commons  in  the  unsettled  dis- 
tricts, where  there  are  no  p<^ople  nor  cattle  to  tor- 
ment. 

The  liarrowing  was  also  my  first  special  intro- 


A  Huge  Fli). 


61 


Mo;lit 

y  do. 
s  the 

vllovV 

V  are 
luu'h 
some 
been 
must 
I    dis- 
-)  tor- 
intro- 


duction to  the  horse-flies  —  jT;reat  liorrid  creatures 
tliat  they  are.  They  fastened  on  tlie  oxen  at  every 
])ai't,  and  stuck  tlie  five  knives  witli  whicli  their 
])rol)()scis  is  armed,  deep  into  the  flesli.  Tliey  are 
as  lariie  as  honey-hees,  so  that  you  may  jud^'e  how 
nuu'h  thev  torment  tlieir  victims,  i  have  seen  tliem 
make  a  horse's  flard^s  red  with  the  l)h)od  from  tlieir 
bites.  They  were  too  numerous  to  be  driven  oft'  by 
the  h)Mij;  tails  of  eitlier  oxen  or  horses,  and,  to  tell 
the  truth,  I  was  half  afraid  to  come  near  them  lest 
they  should  take  a  fancy  to  myself.  It  is  conuuon 
in  travc'lhuij;  to  ])ut  leafy  branches  of  maple  or  some 
other  tree  over  the  horses'  ears  and  head,  to  protect 
tlu'in  as  far  as  possible. 

The  larfjest  fly  I  ever  saw,  lio;hted  on  the  fence, 
close  to  me,  about  this  time.  \N''e  had  been  frio;ht- 
cned  by  stories  of  things  as  biji;  as  your  thumb, 
that  soused  down  on  you  before  you  knew  it,  but 
I  never,  before  or  since,  saw  such  a  jj;iant  of  a  fly 
as  this  fellow.  It  was  just  like  the  house-fly  majj;- 
iiitied  a  great  many  times,  how  many  I  should  not 
like  to  say.  I  took  to  mv  heels  in  a  moment,  for 
fear  of  instant  death,  and  saw  no  more  of  it. 
Whether  it  would  have  bitten  me  or  not  I  cannot 
tell,  but  I  was  not  at  all  inclined  to  try  the  experi- 
ment. 

All  this  time  we  have  left  the  oxen  pullinij;  away 
at  the  harrow,  but  we  must  leave  them  a  minute  or 
two  lono-er,  till  we  i';et  done  with  all  the  Hies  at  once. 
There  is  a  little  black  speck  called    the  sand-fly, 


fll 

* 


ifi' 


1   \W^ 


■aasaa 


JK 


62 


Sand-flies. 


'AM    i. 


J     tr 


which  many  think  even  worse  than  the  mosquito. 
It  comes  in  clouds,  and  is  too  small  to  ward  off, 
and  its  hite  causes  acute  pain  for  hours  after.  But, 
notwithstanding  gadflies,  mosquitoes,  horse-flies, 
and  this  last  pest,  the  sand-fly,  we  were  better  off 
than  the  South  American  Indians  of  whom  Hum- 
boldt speaks,  who  have  to  hide  all  night  three  or 
four  inches  deep  in  the  sand  to  keep  themselves 
from  mosquitoes  as  large  as  bluebottles ;  and  our 
cattle  had  nothing  to  contend  with  like  such  a  fly 
as  the  tzetse,  which  Dr.  Livingstone  tells  us,  is 
fovmd  in  swarms  on  the  South  African  rivers,  a  bite 
of  which  is  certain  death  to  any  horse  or  ox. 

How  curious  it  is,  by  the  way,  that  any  poison 
should  be  so  powerful  that  the  quantity  left  by  the 
bite  of  a  fly  should  be  able  to  kill  a  great  strong 
horse  or  an  ox  ;  and  how  very  wonderful  it  is, 
moreover,  that  the  fly's  body  should  secrete  such  a 
frightful  poison,  and  that  it  should  carry  it  about  in 
it  without  itself  suffering  any  harm  !  Dr.  Buckland, 
of  the  Life  Guards,  was  once  poisoned  by  some  of 
the  venom  of  a  cobra  di  capello,  a  kind  of  serpent, 
getting  below  his  nail,  into  a  scratch  he  had  given 
himself  with  a  knife  he  had  used  in  skinnino;  a  rat, 
which  the  serpent  had  killed.  And  yet  the  serpent 
itself  could  have  whole  glands  full  of  it,  without 
getting  any  Imrt.  But  if  the  cobra  were  to  bite  its 
own  body  it  would  die  at  once.  The  scorpion  can 
and  does  sting  itself  to  death. 

When  we  had  got  our  field  harrowed  over  twice 


■0 


Winter   Wheat. 


63 


twice 


or  thrice,  till  every  part  of  it  had  been  well 
scratched  up,  and  the  ashes  well  mixed  with  the 
soil,  our  next  step  was  to  sow  it,  after  which  camo 
another  harrowing,  and  then  we  had  only  to  wait 
till  the  harvest  next  July,  hoping  we  might  be 
favored  with  a  good  crop.  That  a  blade  so  slight 
as  that  of  young  wheat  should  be  able  to  stand  the 
cold  of  the  Canadian  winter  has  always  seemed  to 
me  a  great  wonder.  It  grows  up  the  first  year  just 
like  crass,  and  mi^ht  be  mistaken  for  it  even  in  the 
beginning  of  the  following  spring.  The  snow 
which  generally  covers  it  during  the  long  cold  sea- 
son is  a  great  protection  to  it,  but  it  survives  even 
when  it  has  been  bare  for  lono;  intervals  too;ether, 
though  never,  I  believe,  so  strong,  after  such  hard- 
ships suffered  in  its  infancy.  The  show  not  only 
protects,  but,  in  its  melting,  nourishes,  the  young 
plant,  so  that  not  to  have  a  good  depth  of  it  is  a 
double  evil.  But,  snow  or  not  snow,  the  soil  is 
almost  always  frozen  like  a  rock,  and  yet  the  tender 
green  blades  live  through  it  all,  unless  some  thaw 
during  winter  expose  the  roots,  and  a  suljsecpient 
frost  seize  them,  in  which  case  the  plant  dies. 
Large  patches  in  many  fields  are  thus  destroyed  in 
years  when  the  snow  is  not  deep  enough.  What 
survives  must  have  suspended  its  life  while  the 
earth  in  which  it  grows  is  frozen.  Yet,  after  being 
thus  asleep  for  months  —  indeed,  more  than  asleep, 
for  every  process  of  life  must  be  stopped,  the  first 
breath  of  spring  brings  back  its  vigor,  and  it  wakes 


'!  'I'T 

I 

} 

9B 


aa 


64 


TJie  Wonders  of  Plant-life. 


I   •■ 


W 


*■■ 


as  If  it  had  been  growing  all  the  time.  How  won- 
derful are  even  the  common  facts  of  nature !  The 
life  of  plants  I  have  always  thought  very  much  so. 
Our  life  perishes  if  it  be  stopped  for  a  very  sliort 
time,  but  tlie  beautiful  robe  of  flowers  and  verdure 
with  which  the  world  is  adorned  is  well-nio;h  inde- 
structible.  Most  of  you  know  the  story  of  Pope's 
weeping  willow  :  the  poet  had  received  a  present 
of  a  basket  of  figs  from  the  levant,  and  when  open- 
ing it,  discovered  that  part  of  the  twigs  of  which  it 
was  made  were  already  budding,  from  some  mois- 
ture that  had  reached  thorn,  and  this  led  him  to 
plant  one,  which,  when  it  had  grown,  became  the 
stock  whence  all  the  Babylonian  willows  in  Eng- 
land have  come.  Then  we  are  told  that  seeds 
gathered  from  beneath  the  ashes  at  Pompeii,  after 
being  buried  for  eighteen  hundred  years,  have 
grown  on  being  brought  once  more  to  the  light, 
and  it  has  often  been  found,  that  others  brought  up 
from  the  bottom  of  wells,  when  they  were  being 
dug,  or  from  beneath  accumulations  of  sand,  of 
unknown  age,  have  only  to  be  sown  near  the  sur- 
face to  commence  instantly  to  grow.  It  is  said 
that  wheat,  found  in  the  coffins  of  mummies  in 
Egypt,  has  sjirung  up  freely  when  sown,  but  the 
proof  of  any  having  done  so  Is  thought  by  others 
insufficient.  Yet  there  is  nothing  to  make  such  a 
thing  impossible,  and  perhaps  some  future  explorer 
like  Dr.  Layard  or  Mr.  Loftus,  may  come  on  grains 
older  still,  In    Babylon  or   Nineveh,  and   give  us 


\hi.\ 


k 

4 

^ 

4 

*v 


Woodpeckers. 


65 


of 
ur- 
aid 

in 
the 
ers 

1  a 
>rer 


'^' 


I 


bread  from  tiie  wlieat  that  Nebuchadnezzar  or  Sein- 
iramis  used  to  eat.  Indeed,  M.  Michelet  tells  us, 
that  some  seeds  found  in  the  inconceivably  ancient 
Diluvial  drift  readilv  <ji;re\v  on  heinnj  sown. 

Duriuii  the  busy  weeks  in  which  we  were  cet- 
tin<r  our  first  field  ready,  we  boys,  tliouijh  always 
out  of  doors,  were  not  always  at  work.  Henry 
used  to  briiiii;  out  liis  ^w\\  with  liim,  to  take  a  shot 
at  any  tiling  lie  could  see,  and  though  there  were 
not  very  many  creatures  round  us,  yet  there  were 
more  when  you  looked  for  them  than  you  would 
otlierwise  have  thought.  The  woodj)eckers  were 
the  strangest  to  us  among  them  all.  They  would 
come  quite  near  us,  running  up  and  down  the 
trunks  of  the  trees  in  every  way,  as  Hies  run  over 
a  window-pane.  There  were  three  or  four  kinds  : 
one,  the  rarest,  known  by  being  partly  yellow  ; 
another,  by  the  feathers  on  its  back  havino;  a 
strange  hairy-like  look  ;  the  third  was  a  smaller 
bird,  about  six  inches  long,  but  otherwise  like  its 
luiiry  relation  ;  the  fourth,  and  commonest,  was  the 
red-headed  woodpecker.  This  one  gets  its  name 
t'roni  the  beautiful  crimson  of  its  head  and  neck, 
and  the  contrast  of  this  bright  color  with  the  black 
and  white  of  its  body  and  wings,  and  with  its  black 
tail,  makes  it  look  very  pretty.  They  would  light 
on  stumps  of  trees  close  to  us,  running  round  to  the 
other  side  till  we  passed,  if  we  came  very  close, 
and  then  reappearing  the  next  instant.  They  kej)t 
up  a  constant  tap,  tap,  tai)ping  w  ith  their  heavy 


-» 


•i^ 


'If  'rir^= 


06 


Woodpeckers. 


'ti 


I 


ifi*f^ 


6ills  on  tlie  l)ark  of  any  tree  on  wliicli  tliey  happen 
to  alight,  running;  up  tlie  trunk,  and  stopping  every 
minute  wi^li  tlieir  tail  resting  on  the  bark  to  suj)- 
port  them,  and  hammering  as  if  for  the  mere  love 
of  the  noise.  Every  grub  or  insect  they  thus  dis- 
covered, was,  in  a  moment,  caught  on  their  tongue, 
which  was  thrust  out  for  the  purpose.  Henry  shot 
one  of  them,  after  missing  pretty  often,  for  we 
were  just  beginning  sluioting  as  well  as  every  thing 
else,  and  we  brought  it  to  the  house  to  let  my  sis- 
ters see  it,  and  to  have  another  look  at  it  oui'selves. 
Being  a  bit  of  an  ornithologist,  he  pointed  out  to  us 
how  the  toes  were  four  in  number  —  two  before 
and  two  behind  —  and  how  they  were  spread  out 
to  give  the  creature  as  firtn  hold  as  })ossible  of  the 
surface  on  which  it  was  climbin<i;,  and  how  its  tail 
was  sha})ed  hke  a  wedge,  and  the  feathers  very 
strong,  to  proj)  it  up  while  at  work.  Then  there 
was  the  great  heavy  head  and  heavy  bill,  with  the 
long  thin  neck,  putting  me  in  mind  of  a  stone- 
breaker's  hammer,  with  the  thin  handle  and  the 
heavy  top.  But  its  tongue  was,  perhaps,  the  most 
curious  part  of  the  whole.  There  were  two  long, 
arched,  tendon-like  things,  which  reached  from  the 
tongue  round  the  skull,  and  passed  quite  over  it 
down  to  the  root  of  the  bill  at  the  nostrils  ;  and,  in- 
side the  wide  circle  thus  made,  a  muscle,  fixed  at  its 
two  ends,  provided  the  means  of  thrusting  out  the 
tongue  with  amazing  swiftness  and  to  a  great 
length,  just  as  you  may  move  forward  the  top  of  a 


Chitmunks, 


67 


fishing-rod  in  an  instant  by  pulling  the  line  which 
runs  from  the  tip  to  the  reel.  jNly  brother  Robert, 
who  was  of  a  religious  disposition,  could  not  hel[) 
telling  us,  when  we  had  seen  all  this,  that  he 
thought  it  just  another  proof  of  the  wonderful  wis- 
dom and  goodness  of  God,  to  see  how  every  thing 
was  adapted  to  its  particular  end. 

One  little  creature  used  to  give  us  a  great  deal 
of  amusement  and  i)leasure.  It  was  what  Nisbet 
called  a  chitmunk,  the  ri^hf  name  of  it  beino;  the 
ground-squiiTcl.  It  was  a  squirrel  in  every  respect, 
except  that,  instead  of  the  great  bushy  tail  turned 
up  over  the  ba^k,  it  had  a  rounded  hairy  one, 
which  was  short  and  straight,  and  was  only  twitched 
up  and  down.  The  little  things  were  to  be  seen 
every  now  and  then  on  any  old  log,  that  marked 
where  a  tree  had  fallen  long  before.  Tlio  moment 
we  looked  at  them  they  would  stare  at  us  with  their 
great  black  eyes,  and,  if  we  moved,  they  were  into 
some  hole  in  the  log,  or  over  the  back  of  it,  and 
out  of  sight  in  an  instant.  We  all  felt  kindly  dis- 
posed toward  them,  and  never  tried  to  shoot  them. 
I  su})pose  they  were  looking  for  nuts  on  the  ground, 
as  they  feed  largely  on  them,  and  carry  off  a  great 
many,  as  well  as  stores  of  other  food,  in  little  cheek- 
pouches  which  they  have,  that  they  may  be  pro- 
vided for  in  winter.  They  do  not  make  their 
houses,  like  the  other  squirrels,  in  holes  in  the  trees, 
but  dig  burrows  in  the  woods,  under  logs,  or  in 
hillocks  of  earth,  or  at  the  roots  of  the  trees,  form- 


'fns^=E 


68 


TJie  Blue  Jay, 


m 


1'  ■ "' 

1 

\ 

■I  \  iiiiia 

iijMIr"' 

1*  m 

w 

i>i   '1 

i       f    ■*■ 

-m-t 

ing  a  wiiidiii;!^  passage  down  to  it,  and  then  making 
two  or  three  })antries,  as  1  may  call  them,  at  the 
sides  of  their  nest,  or  sitting  and  slevping-room, 
for  their  cxtru  HukI.  They  do  not  often  go  np  the 
trees,  bnt  if  they  be  frigJitenetl,  and  cannot  get  to 
their  hole>,  they  rnn  iijj  the  trunks,  and  get  from 
branch  to  branch  with  wonderful  quick uess.  Some- 
times we  tried  to  cat(di  one  when  it  would  thus  go 
up  some  small,  low  tree,  of  which  there  were  num- 
bers on  the  edi::e  of  a  »itream  two  Heids  back  on  our 
farm  ;  but  it  was  always  too  (juick  for  us,  and  after 
making  sure  1  had  it,  and  climbing  the  tree  to  get 
hold  of  it,  it  would  be  otf  in  some  magical  way, 
before  our  eyes,  let  us  do  our  best.  Then,  at  other 
times,  we  would  try  to  catch  one  in  an  old  log,  but 
with  no  better  success.  Henry  would  get  to  the 
one  ercl  and  1  to  the  other,  and  make  sure  it 
could n' I  get  out.  It  always  did  get  out,  however, 
and  all  we  could  do  was  to  admire  its  beautiful 
shape,  with  the  squirrel  head,  and  a  soft  brown 
coat  which  was  striped  with  black,  lengthwise,  and 
its  arch  little  tail,  which  was  never  still  a  moment. 
Some  of  the  birds  were  the  greatest  beauties  you 
could  imagine.  We  would  see  one  fly  into  the 
woods,  all  crimson,  or  seemingly  so,  and  perhaps, 
soon  after,  another,  which  was  like  a  living  emerald. 
They  were  small  birds  —  not  larger  than  a  thrush 
—  and  not  very  numerous ;  but  I  cannot  trust 
myself  to  give  their  true  names.  The  blue  jay 
was  one  of  the  prettiest  of  all  the  feathered  folk 


Hi  r 


The  Blue  Jay. 


tn 


but 
the 
it 
!ver, 
it'ul 
own 
and 
lent, 
you 
the 
laps, 
aid. 
ush 
trust 

folk 


n 


tliat  used  to  come  and  look  at  us.  Wijat  a  briglit, 
quick  eye  it  lias !  wliat  a  beautiful  bhie  crest  to 
raise  or  let  down,  as  its  pride  or  curiosity  moves  it 
or  passes  away !  iiow  exquisitely  its  win<rs  are 
capped  with  blue,  and  barred  witli  black  and  white  I 
and  its  back  —  could  any  thin<i;  be  liner  tlnui  the 
tint  of  bhie  on  it  ?  Its  very  tail  would  be  orna- 
ment enoujjjh  for  any  one  bird,  with  its  elej^ant 
tapering  sluqje,  and  its  feathers  barred  so  charm- 
in<^ly  with  black  and  white.  But  we  got  after- 
wards to  have  a  kind  of  ill-will  at  the  little  urchins, 
when  we  came  to  have  an  orchard  ;  for  greater 
thieves  than  they  are,  when  the  fancy  takes  them,  it 
would  be  hard  to  imagine.  When  breeding,  they 
generally  kept  pretty  close  to  the  woods ;  but  in 
September  or  October  they  would  favor  the  gardens 
with  visits ;  and  then  woe  to  any  fruit  within 
reach  !  But  yet  they  ate  so  many  caterpillars  at 
times  that  I  su})pose  we  should  not  have  grudged 
them  a  cherry  feast  occasionally.  I  am  sure  they 
must  be  great  coxcombs,  small  though  they  be,  for 
they  are  not  much  laro-er  than  a  thrush,  thouoli 
the  leno;th  of  their  tail  makes  them  seem  larger: 
they  carry  their  heads  so  pertly,  like  to  oh.ow  them- 
selves off  so  well,  and  are  so  constantly  raising  and 
lettino;  down  their  beautiful  crest,  as  if  all  the  time 
thinking  how  well  they  look.  John  James  Audu- 
bon, the  ornithologist,  got  a  number  of  them,  of 
both  sexes,  alive,  and  tried  to  carry  them  over  to 
Jingland,  to  make  us  a  present  of  the  race,  if  it 


^ 


•m 


tassffessm 


BBR 


^ae 


(0 


TJie  Blue  Bird. 


1 

i 


il  ! 


I 


ivere  able  to  live  in  our  climate  ;  but  the  poor  things 
all  sickened  and  died  on  the  way. 

I  must  not  forget  the  dear  little  blue  bird,  which 
comes  all  the  way  from  the  Far  South  as  early  as 
March,  to  stay  the  summer  with  us,  not  leaving  till 
the  middle  or  end  of  November,  when  he  seems  to 
bid  a  melancholy  farewell  to  his  friends,  and  re- 
turns to  his  winter  retreat.  In  the  spring  and 
summer  every  place  is  enlivened  with  his  cheerful 
song  ;  but  with  the  change  of  the  leaf  in  October  it 
dies  away  into  a  single  note,  as  if  he  too  felt  sony 
that  the  beautiful  weatlier  was  leaving. 

The  blue  bird  is  to  America  very  much,  in  sum- 
mer, what  the  robin  is  to  us  in  England  in  winter 
—  hopping  as  familiarly.,  as  if  it  trusted  every  one, 
about  the  orchards  and  the  fences.  Sometimes  it 
builds  in  a  hole  in  an  old  apple-tree,  for  generation 
after  generation ;  but  very  often  it  takes  up  its 
abode  in  little  houses  built  specially  for  it,  and  fixed 
on  a  high  pole,  or  on  the  toj)  of  some  of  the  out- 
houses. We  were  sometimes  amused  to  see  its 
kindly  ways  while  the  hen  was  sitting  on  the  nest. 
The  little  husband  would  sit  close  by  her,  and 
lighten  her  cares  by  singing  his  sweetest  notes  over 
and  over;  and,  when  he  chanced  to  have  found 
some  morsel  that  he  thouglit  would  please  her  — 
some  insect  or  other  —  he  would  fly  with  it  to  her, 
spread  his  wing  over  her,  and  put  it  into  her 
mouth.  We  used  to  take  it  for  granted  that  it  w^as 
the  same  pair  that  built,  year  after  year,  in  the  sarao 


-<# 


The  FliyJit  of  Birds. 


.# 


71 


<pot,  but  I  never  heard  of  any  tiling  being  clone  to 
prove  it  in  any  case.  In  that  of  other  birds,  how- 
ever, this  attachment  to  one  spot  has  been  very 
clearly  shown.  I  have  read  somewhere  of  copper 
rinirs  havino;  been  fastened  round  the  legs  of  swal- 
lows,  which  were  observed  the  year  after  to  have 
returned,  with  this  mj'rk  on  them,  to  their  former 
haunts.  How  is  it  tiv.tt  these  tiny  creatures  can 
keep  a  note  in  their  head  of  so  long  a  journey  as 
they  take  each  autumn,  and  cross  country  after 
country,  straight  to  a  place  tliousands  of  miles  dis- 
tant ?  A  man  could  not  do  it  without  all  the  helps 
he  could  get.  I  lose  myself  every  now  and  then 
in  the  streets  of  any  new  city  I  may  visit ;  and  as 
to  making  my  way  across  a  whole  kingdom  without 
asking,  I  fear  I  would  make  only  a  very  zigziig 
progress.  Some  courier  pigeons,  which  one  of  the 
Arctic  voyagers  took  to  the  Far  North,  on  being 
iet  loose,  made  straight  for  the  place  to  which  they 
had  bc^a  accustomed,  in  Ayrshire,  in  an  incredibly 
short  rime.  Lithgow,  the  old  traveller,  tells  us, 
L.  a  one  of  these  birds  will  carry  a  letter  from 
Bagdad  to  Aleppo,  which  is  thirty  day's  journey  at 
the  Eastern  rate  of  travel,  in  forty-eight  hours,  so 
that  it  could  have  had  no  hesitation,  but  must  have 
flown  straight  for  its  distant  home.  They  say  that 
when  on  their  long  flights,  they  and  other  birds, 
such  as  swallows,  soar  to  a  great  height,  and  skim 
round  in  circles  for  a  time,  as  if  surveying  the 
bearings  of  the  land  beneath  them  ;  but  what  eyes 


. ...  ,»«L. 

MM 


'!^[ 

A. 
f 

■••M- 

i  -1 ', 

-!  , 

'  '.*' 

U] 

C,'?' 

4 

,'  i'" 

\ 

f.i! 

'>.i 

--H 


— r 


r      -ti 


""'I'liiiftiin 


41 


72 


The  Fliyht  of  Birds. 


they  must  lia^'o  to  see  clearl}'  over  such  a  landscape 
as  must  open  at  so  great  an  elevation !  and  how 
little,  after  all,  can  that  help  them  on  a  journey  of 
thousand  of  miles  !  Moore's  beautiful  verse  speaks 
of  the  intentness  with  which  the  pigeon  speeds  to 
ts  goal,  and  how  it  keeps  so  high  up  in  the  air : 

"  The  dove  let  loose  in  eastern  skies, 
Ketuniiiig  fondly  home, 
Ne'er  stoops  to  earth  her  wing,  nor  flies 
Where  idle  warblers  roam." 


I  have  noticed  that  all  birds,  when  on  long  flights, 
seek  the  upper  regions  of  the  air  :  the  ducks  ar^d 
swans,  that  used  to  pass  over  us  in  the  spring,  va 
their  way  to  their  breeding-places  in  the  Arctic  re- 
gions, were  always  so  high  that  they  looked  like 
strings  of  moving  specks  in  the  sky.  They  always 
fly  in  certain  order,  the  geese  in  single  file,  arranged 
like  a  great  V,  the  two  sides  of  it  stretching  far 
away  from  each  other,  but  the  birds  which  form  the 
figure  never  losing  their  respective  places.  Some 
of  the  ducks,  on  the  other  hand,  kept  in  wedge- 
shaped  phalanxes,  like  the  order  in  which  Hannibal 
disposed  his  troops  at  the  Battle  of  Cannae.  Whether 
they  fly  so  high  to  see  better,  or  because  the  air  is 
thinner  and  gives  them  less  resistance,  or  to  be  out 
of  the  reach  of  danger,  or  to  keep  from  any  temp- 
tation to  alight  and  loiter  on  their  way,  it  would  be 
hard  to  tell,  but  with  all  the  help  which  their  height 
can  give  them,  is  has  always  been  a  great  wonder 


liiiibal 
lether 

air  is 
je  out 
temp- 
uld  be 
height 

ondel 


The  Fliyht  of  Birds. 


:^. 


to  me  how  they  knew  the  road  to  take.  There  m\is\, 
surely  be  --ome  senses  in  sucli  creatures  of  which  wt 
do  not  know,  or  those  they  have  must  be  very  mu('\» 
more  acute  than  ours.  How  does  a  bee  find  its 
way  home  for  miles  ?  And  how  does  the  little  hum- 
ming-bird—  of  which  I  shall  speak  more  hereaftei 
—  thread  its  way,  in  its  swift  arrowy  fli<i;ht,  from 
Canada  to  the  far  South,  and  back  again,  each 
year  ?  I  am  afraid  we  must  all  confess  that  we 
cannot  tell.  Our  knowledge,  of  which  we  are 
fioraetimes  so  proud,  is  a  very  poor  affair  after  all. 


.« 


»• 


ml 


msammmmm 


*« 


74 


^ 


tSyme  Family  CJianges. 


CHAPTER    V. 


^1 


l^i: 


[ 


Some  family  changes.  —  .\mu?ements.  —  Cow-hunting.  —  Our  "  side* 
line."  —  The  bush. — Adventures  with  rattlesnakes.  —  Garter- 
suakes.  —  A  frog's  flight  for  life.  —  Black  squirrels. 

I  HAVE  talked  so  long  about  the  farm,  and  the 
beasts,  iirid  birds,  that  I  had  almost  forgotten 
to  speak  of  some  changes  which  took  place  in  our 
family  in  the  first  summer  of  our  settlement.  My 
eldest  sister  had,  it  seems,  found  time  in  Toronto  to 
get  in  love,  in  spite  of  having  to  be  mistress  of  such 
a  household,  and,  of  course,  nothing  could  keep  her 
past  the  week  fixed  for  her  marriage,  w^hich  was  to 
take  place  about  two  months  after  her  getting  to 
the  River.  She  must  needs,  when  the  time  drew 
near,  get  back  to  her  beloved,  and  had  to  look  out 
her  share  of  the  furniture,  &c.,  to  take  with  her,  or 
rather  to  send  off  before.  My  eldest  brother,  An- 
drew, also,  had  cast  many  wry  looks  at  the  thick 
logs,  and  at  his  blistered  hands,  and  had  groaned 
through  every  very  hot  day,  maintaining  that  there 
would  soon  be  nothing  left  of  him  bat  the  bones. 
*'  Melting  moments,  girls,"  he  would  say  to  my 
sisters ;  '*  melting  moments,  as  the  sailor  said  under 
the  line.     I  can't  stand  this ;    I  shall  go  back  to 


'U 


a 


I 


ISome  Family  Changes. 


75 


out 
•r,  or 

All- 
thick 


Eiiglancl."  So  he  and  my  eklest  sister  niaac  it  up 
tliat  he  should  take  her,  and  sueli  of  her  chattels  as 
were  not  sent  on  before,  to  Toronto,  and  should 
leave  us  under  the  charge  of  Robert.  Wlieii  the 
day  came,  we  all  went  down  to  the  wharf  with 
them,  and,  after  a  rather  sorrowful  parting,  heard 
in  due  time  of  the  marriage  of  the  one,  and,  a  good 
while  afterwards  —  for  there  were  no  steamers  in 
those  davs  across  the  Atlantic  —  of  the  safe  return 
of  the  other  to  England.  This  was  the  first  break 
up  of  our  household  in  America  ;  and  it  left  us  for 
a  time  lonely  enough,  though  there  were  still  so 
many  of  us  together.  We  didn't  care  much  for 
my  sisters  leaving,  for  she  would  still  be  within 
reach,  but  it  was  quite  likely  we  should  never  see  An- 
drew again.  I  liave  always  thought  it  w^as  a  very 
touching  thing  that  those  who  have  grown  up 
together  should  be  separated,  after  a  few  years,  per- 
haps never  to  meet  again.  ]\ly  brother  Robert 
made  a  very  tender  allusion  to  this  at  worship  that 
night,  and  moved  us  all  by  praying  that  we  might 
all  of  us  lead  such  Christian  lives,  throuixh  God's 
grace,  that  we  might  meet  again  in  the  Great  Here- 
after, if  not  in  our  earthly  pilgrimage.  He  wound 
up  the  service  by  repeating  in  his  very  striking  way 
—  for  he  recited  beautifully — Burns'  touching 
words  : 


"  And  when,  at  last,  we  reach  that  coast, 
O'er  life's  rough  ocean  driven, 
May  we  rejoice  no  wanderer  lost ; 
A  family  iu  heuvcu. 


fW 


'miKmm 


76 


Amusements. 


After  our  wheat  had  been  sown  we  had  time  to 
take  a  Httle  leisure,  and  what  vvitli  fishing  at  the 
end  of  the  long  wharf  by  day,  and  in  the  canoe,  by 
torchlight,  in  the  evenings,  or  strolhng  through  the 
woods  with  our  guns  or  rifles,  or  practising  with 
the  latter  at  a  rough  target  made  by  cuttin*^  a  broad 
slice  off  a  tree,  from  which  we  dug  out  the  bullets 
again  to  save  the  lead,  the  autumn  passed  very 
pleasantly.  Of  course  it  was  not  all  play.  There 
was  plenty  more  forest  to  be  cleared,  and  we 
kept  at  that  pretty  steadily,  though  a  half-holiday 
or  a  whole  one  did  not  seem  out  of  the  way  to  us. 
I,  as  the  youngest,  had  for  my  morning  and  even- 
ing's task  to  cro  to  the  woods  and  brino;  home  the 
cows  to  be  milked,  and  at  times,  the  oxen,  when 
we  wanted  them  for  some  kind  of  work.  The  lat- 
ter were  left  in  the  woods  for  days  together,  when 
we  had  nothing  for  them  to  do,  and  when  we  did 
bring  them  in,  we  always  gave  them  a  little  salt  at 
the  barn-door  to  try  to  get  them  into  the  habit  of 
returning  of  their  own  accord.  Cattle  and  horses 
in  Canada  all  need  to  be  often  indulijed  with  this  lux- 
ury  ;  the  distance  from  the  sea  leaving  hardly  any 
of  it  in  the  air,  or  in  the  gras^^  and  other  vegetation. 
It  was  sometimes  a  pleasure  to  go  cow-hunting,  as 
we  called  it,  but  sometimes  quite  the  r-.-verse.  I 
vised  to  set  out,  with  the  dogs  for  e»>iinpany,  straight 
up  the  bbized  line  ai  the  *ide  of  our  lot.  I  mean, 
up  a  line  aVung  whkib.  the  trees  had  been  notarked  by 
slices  ( at  out  of  their  sides,  to  show  the  way  to  the 


K 


Cow-hmiting. 


77 


lots  at  the  back  of  ours.  It  Avas  all  op^n  for  a  little 
way  back,  for  the  post  road  })assed  up  from  the 
bank  of  the  river  along  the  side  of  our  farm,  for  five 
or  six  acres,  and  then  turned  at  a  right  angle  par- 
allel with  the  river  again,  and  there  was  a  piece  of 
the  side  line  cleared  for  some  distance  bevond  the 
turn.  After  this  })iece  of  civilization  had  been 
])assed,  however,  nature  had  it  all  to  herself.  The 
first  twelve  or  fifteen  acres  lay  tine  and  high,  and 
could  almost  always  be  got  over  easily,  but  the 
ground  dropped  down  at  that  distance  to  the  edge 
of  a  little  stream,  and  rose  on  the  other  side,  to 
stretch  away  in  a  dead  level,  for  I  know  not  how 
many  miles.  The  streamlet,  which  was  sometim.es 
much  swollen  after  thaws  or  rains,  was  crossed  by 
a  rough  sort  of  bridge  formed  of  the  cuts  of  young 
trees,  which  rested  on  stouter  supports  of  the  same 
kind,  stretching  from  bank  to  bank.  One  of  the 
freshets,  however,  for  a  time  destroyed  this  easy 
communication,  and  left  us  no  way  of  crossinix  till 
it  was  repaired,  but  either  by  fording,  or  by  ventur- 
ing over  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  which  was  felled  so  as 
to  reach  across  the  gap  and  make  an  apology  for  a 
bridge.  It  used  at  first  to  be  a  dreadful  job  to  get 
over  this  primitive  pathway,  but  I  got  so  expert 
that  I  could  run  over  it  easily  and  safely  enough. 
The  dogs,  however,  generally  preferred  the  water, 
unless  when  it  was  deep.  Then  there  were  pieces 
of  swampy  land,  further  back,  over  which  a  string 
of  felled  trees,  one  beyond  the  other,  ofltered,  again, 

7* 


H 

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p^rp!s| 


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,!!';;(l 


111;'  :*' 


• 


78 


Cow-hmiting. 


the  only  passage.  These  were  the  worst  to  cross, 
for  the  wet  had  generally  taken  ott'  the  bark,  and 
they  often  bent  almost  into  the  water  with  your 
weight.  One  day,  when  I  was  making  my  best 
attempt  at  getting  over  one  of  these  safely,  an  old 
settler  on  a  lot  two  miles  back  made  his  appearance 
at  the  further  side. 

"  Bad  roads,  Mr.  Brown,"  said  I,  accosting  him, 
for  every  one  speaks  to  every  one  else  in  such  a 
place  as  that. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Stanley  —  bad  roads,  indeed;  but 
it's  nothing  to  have  only  to  walk  out  and  in. 
What  do  you  think  it  must  have  been  when  I  had 
to  bring  my  furniture  back  on  a  sleigh  in  summer- 
time ?  We  used  wagons  on  the  dry  places,  and 
then  got  sleighs  for  the  swamps  ;  and,  Mr.  Stan- 
ley, do  you  know,  I'm  sure  two  or  three  times  you 
hardly  saw  more  of  the  oxen  for  a  minute  tlian  just 
the  horns.  We  had  all  to  go  through  the  water 
ourselves  to  get  them  to  pull,  and  even  then  they 
stuck  fast  with  our  load,  and  we  had  to  take  it  off 
and  carry  it  on  our  backs  the  best  way  we  could. 
You  don't  know  any  thing  about  it,  Mr.  Stanley. 
I  had  to  carry  a  chest  of  drawers  on  my  shoulders 
through  all  this  water,  and  every  bit  that  we  ate 
for  a  whole  year,  till  we  got  a  crop,  had  to  be 
brought  from  the  front,  the  same  way,  over  these 
logs." 

No  doubt  he  spoke  the  truth,  but,  notwithstand- 
ing his  gloomy  recollections,  it  used  to  be  grand 


Cow-hunting. 


79 


fun  to  go  back,  except  when  I  could  not  find  the 
cows,  or  when  they  would  not  let  themselves  be 
driven  home.  The  dogs  would  be  oft'  after  a  squir- 
rel every  little  while,  though  they  never  could 
catch  one,  or  they  would  splash  into  the  water 
with  a  thousand  gambols  to  refresh  themselves 
from  the  heat,  and  get  quit  of  the  mosquitoes. 
Then  tliere  can  be  nothing  more  beautiful  than 
the  woods  themselves,  when  the  leaves  are  in  all 
their  bravery,  and  the  ground  is  varied  by  a  thou- 
sand forms  of  verdure,  wherever  an  opening  lets  in 
the  sun.  The  trees  are  not  broad  and  umbrageous 
like  those  in  the  parks  of  England.  Their  being 
crowded  together  makes  them  grow  far  higher 
before  the  branches  begin,  so  that  you  have  great 
high  trunks  on  every  side,  like  innumerable  pillars 
in  some  vast  cathedral,  and  a  high  open  roof  of 
green,  far  over  head,  the  white  and  blue  of  the 
sky  filling  up  the  openings  in  the  fretwork  of  the 
leaves.  There  is  always  more  or  less  undergrowth 
to  heighten  the  beauty  of  the  scene,  but  not 
enough,  except  in  swampy  places,  to  obscure  the 
view,  which  is  only  closed  in  the  distance  by  the 
closer  and  closer  gathering  of  the  trees  as  tli  y  re- 
cede. The  thickness  of  some  of  these  monarchs  of 
the  forest,  the  fine  shape  of  others,  and  the  vast 
height  of  nearly  all ;  the  exhaustless  charms  of  the 
great  canopy  of  mingled  leaves  and  branches,  and 
sky  and  cloud  above  ;  the  picturesque  vistas  in  the 
openings    here    and    there    around ;    the    endless 


Iff 


'UM 


•>\. 


f    U 


80 


The  Bush. 


■>  'li! 


i^      ''.i:. 


I 


variety  of  shade  and  form  in  the  yonng  trees 
springing  uj)  at  intervals  ;  the  flowers  in  one  spot, 
the  rough  fretting  of  tiillen  and  mouldering  trees, 
bright  with  every  tint  of  fungus,  or  red  with  decay, 
or  decked  with  mosses  and  lichens,  in  others,  and 
the  graceful  outline  of  hroad  beds  of  fern,  contrast- 
ing with  the  many-colored  carpet  of  leaves — made 
it  deliiihtful  to  stroll  alt)no;.  The  silence  that 
reigns  heightens  the  })leasure  and  adds  a  calm  so- 
lenniity.  The  stroke  of  an  axe  can  be  heard  for 
miles,  and  so  may  the  sound  of  a  cow-bell,  as  1 
have  sometimes  found  to  my  sorrow.  But  it  was 
only  when  the  cows  or  oxen  could  be  easily  got 
that  I  was  disposed  to  think  of  the  poetry  of  the 
journey.  They  always  kept  together,  and  1  knew 
the  sound  of  our  bell  at  anv  distance  ;  but  some- 
times  I  could  not,  by  any  listening,  catch  it,  the 
wearer  having  perhaps  lain  down  to  chew  the  cud, 
and  then,  what  a  holloairg  and  getting  up  on  fallen 
trees  to  look  for  them,  and  wandering;  till  I  was 
fairly  tired.  One  of  the  oxen  had  for  a  time  the 
honor  of  bearing  the  bell,  but  I  found,  after  a 
while,  that  he  added  to  my  trouble  in  finding  him 
and  his  friends,  bv  his  cunninfj;,  and  we  trairsferred 
it  to  one  of  the  cows.  The  brute  had  a  fixed  dis- 
like to  going  home,  and  had  learned  that  the  tinkle 
of  the  bell  was  a  sure  })relude  to  his  being  led  off, 
to  prevent  which,  he  actually  got  shrewd  enough 
to  hold  his  head,  while  resting,  in  so  still  a  way 
that  he  hardly  made  a  sound.     I  have  seen  him, 


■4 


Adventures  with  Rattlesnakes. 


81 


Icrh 


wlien  I  had  at  last  hunted  him  up,  lookiut]^  side- 
wavs  at  me  with  his  great  eyes,  afraid  for  his  hfe 
to  stir  his  head  lest  the  horrid  claj>})er  should  pro- 
claim his  presence.  When  I  did  get  them  they 
were  not  always  willing  to  be  driven,  and  would 
set  otf  with  their  heads  and  tails  up,  the  oxen  ac- 
companying them,  the  bell  making  a  hideous  cltui- 
gor,  careering  away  over  every  im})ediment, 
straight  into  the  woods,  in,  perhaps,  the  very  oppo- 
site direction  to  that  in  which  I  wished  to  lead 
them.  Then  for  a  race  to  head  tliem,  round  logs, 
over  logs,  through  brush  and  below  it,  the  dogs 
dashing  on  ahead,  where  they  thought  I  was  going, 
and  looking  back  every  minute,  as  if  to  wonder 
what  1  was  about.  It  was  sometimes  the  work  of 
hours  to  get  them  home,  and  sometimes  for  days 
too-ether  we  could  not  find  them  at  all. 

There  is  little  to  fear  from  wild  animals  in  the 
bush  in  Canada.  The  deer  were  too  frightened  to 
trouble  us,  and,  though  I  have  some  stories  to  tell 
about  bears  and  wolves,  they  were  so  seldom  seen 
that  they  did  not  give  us  much  alarm.  But  I  was 
always  afraid  of  the  rattlesnakes  especially  in  the 
long  grass  that  grew  in  some  wet  places.  I  never 
saw  but  one,  however,  and  that  was  once,  years 
after,  when  I  was  riding  up  a  narrow  road  that  had 
been  cut  through  the  woods.  My  horse  was  at  a 
walk,  when,  suddenly,  it  made  a  great  spring  to 
one  side,  very  nearly  unseating  me,  and  then  stood 
looking  at  a  low  bush  aiid  trembling  in  every  limb. 


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82 


Adventures  with  Rattlesnakes. 


The  next  moment  I  Iieard  tlie  liorrible  rattle, 
and  my  liorse  commenced  a  set  of  leaps  from  one 
side  to  the  otlier,  backhig  all  the  while,  and  snort- 
in*^  wildly.  1  could  not  ^et  oil',  and  as  little  could 
I  (];et  my  horse  turned  away,  so  great  was  his  fear. 
Two  men  luckily  came  n}>  just  at  this  time,  and  at 
once  saw  the  cause  of  the  j)oor  brute's  alarm,  which 
was  soon  ended  by  one  of  them  making  a  dash  at 
the  snake  with  a  thick  stick,  and  breakino;  its  neck 
at  a  blow,  liemy  told  us  once  that  lie  was  chased 
by  one  which  he  had  disturbed,  and  1  can  easily 
credit  it,  for  I  have  seen  smaller  snakes  get  very 
infuriated,  and  if  one  was  alarmed,  as  in  Henry's 
case,  it  miii;ht  readily  iilide  after  him  for  some  dis- 
tance.  However,  it  i'ared  badly  in  the  end,  for  a 
stick  ended  its  days  abru})tly.  I  was  told  one 
story  that  I  believe  is  true,  though  ridiculous 
enough.  A  good  man,  busy  mowing  in  his  field, 
in  the  summer  costume  of  hat,  shirt,  and  boots, 
found  himself,  to  his  horror,  face  to  face  with  a 
rattlesnake,  which,  on  his  instantly  throwing  down 
his  scythe  and  turning  to  Hee,  sprang  at  his  tails 
and  fixed  its  fano;s  in  them  inextricablv.  The 
next  s})ring  —  the  cold  body  of  the  snake  struck 
against  his  legs,  making  him  certain  he  had  been 
bitten.  He  was  a  full  mile  from  his  house,  but 
despair  added  strength  and  s])eed.  Away  he  Hew 
—  over  logs,  fences,  every  tiling — the  snake  dash- 
ing against  him  with  every  jump,  till  he  reached 
his  home,  into  which  he  rushed,  shouting,  "  The 


j.     V' 


Adventures  with  Rattlesnakes. 


88 


snake,  the  snake !  I'm  bitten,  I'm  bitten  I "  Of 
course  they  were  all  alarmed  enough,  but  when 
they  came  to  examine,  the  terror  proved  to  be  the 
whole  of  the  injuiy  suifered,  the  snake's  body  hav- 
ing been  knocked  to  pieces  on  the  way,  the  head, 
only,  remaining  fixed  in  the  spot  at  which  it  had 
originally  sprung.  David  and  Henry  were  one 
day  at  work  in  our  field,  where  there  were  some 
bu.shes  close  to  a  stump  near  the  fence.  The  two 
were  near  each  other  when  the  former  saw  a  num- 
ber of  young  rattlesnakes  at  Heniy's  side,  and,  as 
a  good  joke,  for  we  laughed  at  the  danger,  it 
seemed  so  slight,  cried  out  —  "Henry!  Henry  I 
look  at  the  rattlesnakes ! "  at  the  same  time 
mounting  the  fence  to  the  highest  rail  to  enjoy 
Henry's  panic.  But  the  young  ones  were  not  dis- 
posed to  trouble  any  one,  so  that  he  instantly  saw 
that  he  had  nothing  to  fear ;  whereas,  on  looking 
toward  David,  there  was  quite  enough  to  turn  the 
laugh  the  other  way.  *'  Look  at  your  feet,  Da- 
vid ! "  followed  in  an  instant,  and  you  may  easily 
imagine  how  quickly  the  latter  was  down  the  outer 
side  of  the  fence,  and  away  to  a  safe  distance, 
when,  on  doing  as  he  was  told,  he  saw  the  mother 
of  the  brood  poised  below  him  for  a  spring,  which, 
but  for  Henry,  she  would  have  made  the  next  mo- 
ment. 

Pigs  have  8  wonderful  power  of  killing  snakes, 
their  hungry  stomachs  tempting  them  to  the  attack 
for  the  sake  of  eating  their  bodies.     I  don't  know 


I 


1  ■  ■'^ 


vyi 


.^!| 


ii  ' 


1^ 


84 


Garter  Snakes. 


tliat  tliey  ever  set  on  rattlesnakes,  but  a  fiiend  of 
mine  saw  one  with  tiie  body  of  a  great  black  snake, 
the  thickness  of  his  wrist,  and  tour  or  five  feet  long, 
lying  over  its  back.  Monsieur  Pig  converting  the 
whole  into  pork  as  fast  as  he  could,  by  vigorously 
swallowing  joint  Jifter  joint. 

The  garter  snake  is  the  only  creature  of  lis  kind 
whicli  is  very  common  in  Canada,  and  very  beauti- 
ful and  harmless  it  is.  But  it  is  never  seen  with- 
out getting  killed,  unless  it  beat  a  very  speedy  re- 
treat into  some  log  or  j)ile  of  stones,  or  other  shelter. 
The  influence  of  the  story  of  the  Fall  in  the  Garden 
of  Eden  is  fatal  to  the  whole  tribe  of  snakes,  against 
every  individual  of  which  a  merciless  crusade  is 
■waejed  the  moment  one  is  seen.  The  garter  snake 
feeds  on  frogs  and  other  small  creatures,  as  I 
chanced  to  see  one  day  when  walking  up  the  road. 
In  a  broad  bed  of  what  they  call  tobacco-weed,  a 
chase  for  life  or  deatl.  was  beinij  made  between  a 
poor  frog  and  one  of  these  snakes.  The  frog  evi- 
dently knew  it  was  in  danger,  for  you  never  saw 
such  lea])s  as  it  would  take  to  get  away  from  its 
enemy,  falling  into  the  weeds,  after  each,  so  as  to 
be  hidden  for  a  time,  if  it  had  only  been  able  to 
keej)  so.  But  the  snnke  would  raise  itself  up  on  a 
slight  coil  of  its  tail,  and  from  that  height  search 
every  place  with  its  bright  wicked  eyes  for  its  l)rey, 
,  and  presently  glide  oti'  toward  where  the  poor  frog 
lay  j)anting.  Tlien  for  another  leap,  and  anoiier 
poising,  to  scan  tlie  field.     I   don't  know  how  it 


Black  Squirrels, 


8ft 


ended,  for  I  liad  watched  tlicMii  till  they  were  a 
|T()o{l  way  off.  How  tlie  snake  would  ever  swallow 
it,  it'  it  cau<i;ht  it,  is  hard  to  imagine,  for  certainly 
it  was  at  least  three  times  as  thick  as  itself.  But 
we  know  that  snakes  can  do  wonderful  thino-s  in 
that  way.  Why,  the  corbra-de-capello,  at  the  Zoo- 
lopcal  Gardens,  swallowed  a  great  railway  rug 
some  time  ago,  and  managed  to  get  it  up  again 
when  it  found  it  could  make  nothino;  of  it.  It  is  a 
mercy  our  jaws  do  not  distend  in  such  a  fashion, 
tor  we  would  look  very  horrible  if  we  were  in  the 
hahit  of  swallowinix  two  larj^e  loaves  at  a  time,  or 
of  taking  our  soup  with  a  spoon  a  foot  broad,  which 
would,  however,  be  no  worse  than  a  garter-snake 
swallowinn;  a  frojT  whole.  It  is  amaziuLr  how  fierce 
some  of  the  small  snakes  are.  I  have  seen  one  of 
six  or  ei<iht  inches  in  leno;th  dart  at  a  walkincj-stick 
by  which  it  had  been  disturbed,  with  a  force  so 
great  as  to  be  felt  in  your  hand  at  the  further  end. 
Homer,  in  the  Iliad,  says  that  Menelaus  was  as 
brave  as  a  fly,  which,  though  so  small,  darts  once 
and  again  in  a  man's  face,  and  will  not  be  driven 
awav  ;  but  he  miiiht  have  had  an  additional  com- 
parison  for  his  hero  it'  he  had  seen  a  snake  no  bigger 
than  a  ])encil  charging  at  a  tl>ick  stick  held  in  a 
man's  hand. 

We  had  very  pleasant  recreation  now  and  then, 
hunting  black  squirrels,  which  were  cajtital  eating. 
Thev  are  much  larwr  than  either  the  gray  or  the 
red  ones,  and  taste  very  much  like  j'abbitii,  from 


86 


Black  Squirrels. 


■■ '  ■*■ 


ffi 

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m-   '.■! 

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'  '1* . 

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ii  !.   , 

fii 

It 

! 

whicli,  indeed,  it  would  be  liard  to  distino;nisli  tlicm 
when  they  are  on  tlie  tal)le.  IJotli  they  and  tlie 
gray  squirrel  are  very  rommon,  and  are  sometimes 
great  ])csts  to  the  farmer,  making  sad  havoc  with 
In's  Indian  corn  while  green,  and  with  the  young 
wheat.  In  Pennsylvania  this  at  one  time  came  to 
such  a  [)itch  that  a  law  was  passed,  ollering  three- 
pence a-head  for  every  one  destroyed,  which  re- 
sulted, in  1741>,  in  8,000/.  being  paid  in  one  year  an 
head-money  for  those  killed.  Their  great  nundjers 
sometimes  develop  strange  instincts,  very  dilferent 
from  those  we  might  exj)ect.  From  scarcity  of 
food,  or  some  other  unknown  cause, all  the  scpnrrels 
in  a  larjie  district  will  at  times  take  it  into  their  heads 
to  make  a  regular  nnVration  to  some  other  region. 
Scattered  bodies  are  said  to  gather  from  distant 
points,  and  mai'shal  themselves  into  one  great  host, 
which  then  sets  out  on  its  chosen  march,  [dlowing 
nothing  whatever  —  be  it  mountain  or  river  —  to 
stop  them.  We  ourselves  had  proof  enough  that 
nothing  in  the  shape  of  water,  short  of  a  lake,  could 
do  it.  Our  neighbors  agreed  in  telling  us  that,  a 
few  years  before  we  came,  it  had  been  a  bad  sum- 
mer for  nuts,  and  that  the  squirrels  of  all  shades 
had  evidently  seen  the  perils  of  the  approaching 
winter,  and  made  up  their  minds  to  emigrate  to 
more  favored  lands.  Whether  they  held  meetings 
on  the  subject,  and  discussed  the  policy  to  be  pur- 
sued, was  not  known  ;  but  it  is  certain  that  squir- 
reldom  at  large  decided  on  a  united  course  of  action. 


^^ 


i\ 


Black  Sauirreh. 


87 


Havinjnr  ronie  to  this  (loterniination,  tlicy  gathered, 
it  ai)j)eiir.s,  in  iininense  numbers,  in  the  trees  at  the 
water's  e(l«j:e%  where  tlie  river  was  at  least  a  mile 
hroad,  and  had  a  "urrent  of  ahont  two  miles  an 
hour,  and,  witiiout  hesitation,  lauiu'hed  oft'  in  thou- 
sands on  the  stream,  straiglit  for  the  other  side. 
Whether  they  all  eould  swim  so  far,  no  one,  of 
course,  eould  tell  ;  hut  vast  numhers  reached  the 
southern  shore,  and  made  for  the  woods,  to  seek 
there  the  winter  supplii's  which  liad  heen  deficii'ut 
in  the  district  they  had  left.  How  stran«re  lor  little 
creatures  like  them  to  contrive  and  carrv  out  an 
organized  movement,  whicli  looked  as  complete 
and  deliherate  as  the  mifrration  of  as  manv  human 
beinirs !  What  led  them  to  cro  to  the  south  rather 
than  to  the  north  ?  There  were  no  woods  in  siiiht  on 
the  southern  side,  though  there  were  forests  enough 
in  th(;  interior.  I  think  we  can  only  come  to  the 
conclusion,  which  cannot  be  easily  confuted,  that 
the  lower  creatures  hiive  some  faculties  of  which  we 
have  no  idea  whatever. 

The  black  S(juirrels  are  very  luirdy.  You  may 
sec  them  in  the  woods,  even  in  the  middle  of  win- 
ter, when  their  red  or  gray  brethren,  and  the  little 
ground  scjuirrels,  are  not  to  be  seen.  On  bright 
days,  however,  even  these  more  delicate  creatures 
venture  out,  to  see  what  the  world  is  like,  after  their 
long  seclusion  in  their  holes  in  the  trees.  They 
must  gather  a  large  amount  of  food  in  the  summer 
and  autumn  to  be  sufHcient  to  keep  them  through 


!|:i 


w 


88 


Black  Squirrels. 


the  long  montlis  of  cold  and  frost,  and  their  diligence 
in  getting  reaJy  in  time  for  the  season  when  their 
food  is  buried  out  of  their  reach,  is  a  capi.tal  exam- 
ple to  us.  They  carry  things  from  great  distances 
to  their  nests,  if  food  be  rather  vscarce,  or  if  they 
find  any  delicacy  worth  laying  up  for  a  treat  in  the 
winter.  When  the  wheat  is  ripe  they  come  out  in 
great  numbers  to  get  a  share  of  the  ears,  and  run 
off  with  as  many  as  they  can  manage  to  steal. 


:l  li^  ,1 


:  j 

.'J  i: 


fu 
sli 

p 

on 


a  io 

bur 

and 

an 

aJly 

a  slif 

lonrr 

hidk 


Spmring  Fish, 


89 


CHAPTER    VI. 


Spearing  fish. -■  AnciiMit  RritisJi  rnnoos.  —  Indian  nnps.  — A  bargain 
witli  an  Indian.  —  Henry's  cold  hath.  —  Canadian  thundtTstonns. 
—  I'oor  Voritk's  death.  —  Our  gh)ri()iis  autumns.  —  Tho  clianga 
of  tlie  leaf.  —  Sun.H'ts.  —  Indian  summer.  —  Tlie  fall  rain.s  and 
the  roads.  —  The  first  snow.  —  Canadian  cold.  —  A  winter  land- 
scape—  "  Ice-st(»rms."  —  Snow  crystals.  —  The  minute  perfcc- 
tion  of  God's  works.  —  Deer-shooting.  —  [)avid'8  ini&fortune.— 
Useless  cruelty. —  Shedding  of  the  stag's  horns. 

SPEARING  fisli  by  moonli<j;ht  was  a  great 
ainiisenient  with  us  in  the  beautiful  autumn 
evenin<j;s.  We  had  boun;ht  a  canoe  from  an  Indian 
for  eight  doUars,  I  tliink  — tliat  is,  about  thirty-two 
sliillings,  and  it  formed  our  boat  on  these  occasions. 
Perhaps,  however,  before  speaking  of  our  adventures 
on  the  waters,  I  had  better  describe  tliis  new  pur- 
chase, and  the  scene  of  its  transference  to  our  liands, 
which  was  as  curious  as  itself.  It  was  made  out  of 
a  lonop  cut  of  a  black  walnut-tree,  which  had  been 
biu'nedand  hollowed  to  the  required  de])th,  breadth, 
and  length,  and  had  then  been  shaped,  outside,  by 
an  axe,  to  the  model  proposed.  They  are  gener- 
ally quite  light,  but  ours  was,  to  other  canoes,  what 
a  ship's  boat  is  to  a  skiff.  It  must  have  taken  a 
lung  time  to  finish,  but  time  is  of  no  value  to  an 

Indian.     Indeed,  the  longer  any  thing  takes  him 

8» 


p.i,;: 


I' 


W' 


90 


Indian  Canoes, 


i 

;         t 

l» 


<t 


';     Wt 


^4:  i 


f:  '■*! 


ii 


the  bcttiT,  as  it  «i;iv('s  liirii  at  li-ast  soniotliin^  to  do, 
wlu'ii,  otliL'i'wiso,  lie  would  likoly  have  ri'hipsod  into 
total  idleness.  There  is  no  keel  on  eanoes,  but  on- 
ly a  round  l)ottoni,and  the  ends  are  sharp  and  hoth 
alike.  Of  course,  such  a  vessel  has  a  natural  fsu-il- 
ity  at  rollin<i;,  and  needs  only  the  slightest  aid  on 
your  ])art  to  turn  in  the  water  like  a  lo*:^,  so  that 
safety  depends  very  nuieh  vm  your  being  steady, 
and  not  leaning;,  under  any  circunistanees,  to  either 
side.  In  some  parts  ot"  Canada  they  are  made  of 
the  toujih,  liiiht  bark  of  the  birch  tree,  which  is 
sewed  into  a  long  sheet,  and  stretched  over  a  light 
but  strong  framework  of  the  desired  shaj)e.  Before 
using  it,  the  bark  is  thoroughly  soaked  in  oil  to 
make  it  waterproof.  When  iinished,  such  a  ca- 
noe is  really  elegant,  rising  high  into  a  wide  circu- 
lar form  at  the  ends,  which  are  made  very  sharp  to 
cut  the  water  easily.  I  have  seen  them  beautifully 
finished,  with  diHerently  colored  ])orcuj)ine  quills 
worked  into  the  edges,  and  fanciful  designs  at  the 
ends.  They  arc  so  light  that  one  which  will  hold 
twenty  men  weighs  only  a  few  hundred-weight,  and 
can  be  easily  carried  by  three  or  four  men.  Then, 
they  are  so  elastic,  that  they  yield  to  blows  which 
would  break  a  canoe  of  wood.  When  tliev  do  <ret 
an  injury,  it  is  anuising  to  see  how  easily  they  are 
mended.  You  can  darn  them  like  a  stocking,  or 
patch  them  like  a  shoe,  using  wire,  however,  instead 
of  thread,  and  making  all  tight  by  a  coating  of  the 
resinous  matter  got  from  the  red  pine.     The  inge- 


find 

Uiiiji( 


Ancient  BritUh  Canoes. 


01 


(ret 
kr,  or 

;to;ul 
1'  tlie 


Inge- 


nuity tliat  invontc'd  sucli  ;i  ri'lincniont  on  the  com- 
iiion  canoi',  as  ivS  shown  in  tlie  l)ir(h-l)ark  one,  is 
enough  to  redeem  the  cliaraeter  of  the  ln(Han  from 
tlic  h)w  estimate  of  liis  mechanical  poweiN  sometimes 
lieard.  If  we  wonder  at  the  contrast  lu-tween  such 
vessels  at  their  best  and  our  beautiful  boats  and 
ships,  we  must  remember  that  (mr  ancestoi*s  could 
boast  of  nothin<^  better  than  these  Indians  make  to- 
day. In  both  Scotland  and  En^dand,  canoes  have 
been  often  found  in  diainino;  a  lake,  or  in  excava- 
tions near  streams,  or  near  the  sea-shore,  where 
bo(!;s  or  other  causes  have  covered  the  ancient  sur- 
face of  the  ground.  One  was  discovered  some  years 
since  at  the  foot  of  the  Ochill  hills,  many  feet  under 
a  bo<^,  and  not  very  far  from  it  there  was  found  the 
skeleton  of  a  small  whale,  with  the  head  of  a  har- 
poon stickin<;  in  its  backbone.  Others,  found  else- 
where, are  j)reserved  in  various  public  and  })rivato 
museums.  It  is  striking  to  think,  from  such  discov- 
ei'ies  as  these,  and  from  what  we  know  of  the  boats 
of  savage  nations  generally  over  the  world,  how 
nearly  men  of  all  ages,  when  j)laced  in  the  same  po- 
sition, when  they  are  at  similar  stages  of  civilization, 
resemble  each  other  in  their  thou<j[hts  and  contriv- 
ances  to  meet  the  common  wants  of  life.  All  over 
the  world  hollow  trees  have  been  used  for  the  first 
steps  of  navigation,  and  the  birch-bark  canoe  still 
linds  a  representative  in  the  coracle  which  the 
Welsh  fisherman  carries  liome  on  his  back  after 
using  it,  as  his  ancestors  have  done  for  generation 


m 


!<ni 


i; 

St 


92 


Indian  Canoes* 


-'i 

»            i 

::             V 

I.    ! 

i    i 

i^ 

!    i 

1';     • 
1 

fi 

i 

1; 
i 

1 

:,::.        1 

%       ■ 

'!■    ■ 

\}>  ^ 

If' 

'mM 

Ml..... 

after  frencration,  wliile  tlic  GrctMilander  f^ocs  to  sea 
ill  his  li^xht  kaiack  of'soal-skin,  as  the  pohshed  inhal>- 
itaiit  of  Hahyhm,  .as  Herodotus  tells  us,  used  to  Hoat 
liis  <joodsdo\vu  tlieCJreat  River  in  round  boats  made 
of  skins  stretclied  on  a  frame  of  wicker-work. 

Instead  of  oars,  tlie  eanoe  is  jjropelled  hy  j)addles, 
wliich  are  short  oars,  with  a  broader  bhide.  They 
are  lield  in  both  liands,  so  tiiat  a  single  person  has 
only  one  to  work  instead  of  having  one  in  each 
liand,  as  with  oars,  when  alone  in  a  boat.  An  In- 
dian in  a  canoe,  if  by  himself,  sits  at  the  end, 
ami  strikes  his  paddle  into  the  water  at  each  side 
alternately,  every  now  and  then  j)uttinnr  it  out  be- 
liind  as  a  rudder,  to  turn  himself  in  any  particular 
direction.  The  one  we  bought  was,  as  I  have  said, 
far  too  heavy  for  comfortable  use,  and  was  sold  to 
us,  I  believe,  for  that  reason.  It  was  worse  to  pad- 
dle it  empty  than  to  paddle  a  proper  one  full  of 
people  —  at  least  >ve  came  to  think  so;  but  we 
knew  no  better  at  first  than  to  like  it  for  its  mas- 
siveness,  never  thinking  of  the  weiglit  we  should 
have  to  push  through  the  water.  The  price,  how- 
ever, was  not  very  great,  though  more  than  would 
have  got  us  a  right  one,  had  we  known  enough. 
The  Indian  who  sold  it  to  us  paddled  up  with  it, 
with  his  wife  in  it  with  him,  one  morning,  his  dress 
being  a  dirty  printed  calico  shirt,  and  a  pair  of  cloth 
leggings  ;  her's,  the  never-failing  blanket,  and  leg- 
gings, like  those  of  her  husband.  They  were  both 
rather  elderly,  and  by  no  means  attractive  in  ap- 


atc 

addi 

sell 

nilrrl 

tion, 
like 
to  J( 


Bargain  with  an  Indian. 


98 


poanince.  Robert  and  tlic  rest  of  us  happened  to 
be  near  tlie  fenee  at  tlie  river  side  at  tlie  time  ;  and 
as  the  In(Han  cwinr  up,  he  sahited  him,  .as  is  usual, 
with  tlie  words,  '*  Ho'  jour,"  a  corruption  of  the 
phrase,  "  Bon  jour,"  indieatino;  curiously  the  extent 
of  the  old  French  dominion  in  America — every 
Indian,  in  any  part,  understanding,  or,  at  least, 
acknowled;i;in<:r  it.  A  f^ruut  ''!i  Hie  ])art  of  our 
visitor  conveyed  his  return  o;  the  courtesy,  and 
was  presently  followed  b^  '*  C"noo,  ,11,  irood  — 
you  buy?"  Robert,  thus  a  Idicssed,  willingly 
enoun;h  entered  into  temptation,  havirif;  deter- 
mined, sometime  before,  to  buy  one.  Like  ev'.ry 
one  else  in  Canada,  he  seemed  naturally  to  tliink 
that  bad  English  makes  good  Indian,  and  pursued 
the  dialogue  somewhat  as  follows:  —  Robert  — 
"Good  c'noo?"  Indian,  w'itl\  a  grunt,  "  Good," 
making  sundry  signs  with  his  hands,  to  show  liow 
it  skimmed  the  water,  and  how  easily  it  could  be 
steered,  both  qualities  being  most  sadly  deficient, 
as  he  must  have  known.  Robert  —  "What  for 
you  ask?"  Indian,  holding  up  eight  fingers,  and 
nodding  toward  tliem,  "  dollar,"  making,  immedi- 
ately after,  an  imitation  of  smoking,  to  stand  for  an 
additional  value  in  tobacco.  Robert  —  "  Why  you 
sell  ?  "  Indian  —  No  answer,  but  a  grunt,  which 
might  either  hide  a  wish  to  decline  a  difficult  ques- 
tion, by  pretending  ignorance,  or  any  thing  else  we 
like  to  suppose.  Then  followed  more  dumb-show, 
to  let  us  know  what  a  treasure   he  was  parting 


94 


Spearing  Fish. 


ijiiti 


with.  IVIy  brotlier  found  it  hopeless  to  get  any  in- 
formation from  him,  notliing  but  grunts  and  an  old 
word  or  two  of  Euiilisli  following;  a  number  ot 
inquiries.  After  a  time  the  bargain  was  struck, 
and  having  received  the  money  and  the  tobacco, 
he  and  his  spouse  departed,  laugliing  in  their 
sleeves,  I  dare  say,  at  their  success  in  getting  a 
canoe  well  sold  which  needed  two  or  three  men  to 
propel  it  at  a  reasonable  rate. 

It  was  with  this  affair  we  used  to  go  out  on  our 
spearing  expeditions.  A  cresset,  like  those  used  in 
old  times  to  hold  watchmen's  lights,  and  a  spear 
with  three  prongs  and  a  long  handle,  were  all  the 
apparatus  required.  The  cresset  was  fixed  in  the 
bows  of  the  canoe,  and  a  knot  of  pitch-pine  kindled 
in  it,  threw  a  briijht  lioht  over  and  throu";h  the 
water.  Only  very  still  nights  would  do,  for  if 
there  was  any  ripple  the  fish  could  not  be  seen. 
When  it  was  perfectly  calm  we  filled  our  cresset, 
and  setting  it  a  fire,  one  of  us  would  take  his  place 
near  the  light,  spear  in  hand,  standing  ready  to  use 
it ;  and  another  seated  himself  at  the  stern  with  a 
paddle,  and,  with  the  least  possible  noise,  pushed 
off  alono;  the  shallow  edsie  of  the  river.  The  fish 
could  be  seen  a  number  of  feet  down,  restino;  on 
the  bottom  ;  but  in  very  deep  water  the  spear  could 
not  get  down  quickly  enough,  while  the  position  of 
the  fish  itself  was  changed  so  much  by  the  refrac- 
tion of  the  light,  that  it  was  very  hard  to  hit  it 
even  if  we  were  not  too  slow.     The  stillness  of  the 


Spear  in  cj  Fish. 


95 


night  —  the  beauty  of  the  sliiniiii:^  skies  —  the  deh- 
cious    mihhicss    of   the   autumnal    evenings — tlie 
slee})ing  smoothness  of  the  great  river  —  the  l)lay 
of  h<rht  and  sliade  from  our  tire  —  tlie  white  sand 
of  the  bottom,  with  the  forms  of  the  fish  seen  on  it 
as  if  tlirough  colored  crystal  —  and  the  excitement 
(>{'  darting   at    them    every    few  yards,  made    the 
whole  delightful.     At  first  we  always  missed,  by 
miscalculating  the  position  of  our  intended  booty  ; 
but,  after  going  out  a  few  times  with  John  Courte- 
nay,  a  neighbor,  and  noticing  how  much  he  allowed 
for  the  difference  between  the  real  and  the  appar- 
ent spot  for  which  to  aim,  we  got  the  secret  of  the 
art,  and  gradually  managed  to  become  pretty  good 
marksmen.     There  was  an  island  in  the  river,  at 
the  upper  end  of  which  a  long  tongue  of  shallow 
bottom   reached   up  the    stream,  and    on    this  we 
found  the  best  sport :  black    bass,  pike,  herrings, 
white-fish,  cat-fish,  sun-fish,  and  I  don't  know  what 
else,  used  to  fall  victims  on  this  our  best  preserve. 
I  liked  almost  as  well  to  paddle  as  to  stand  in  the 
bows  to  spear  the  fish,  for  watching  the  spearsman 
and  looking  down  at  the  fish  kept  you  in  a  flash  of 
pleasant  excitement  all  the  time.     Not  a  word  was 
spoken  in    the  canoe,  but  I  used    to   think  words 
cnouo-h.     "  There's  a  ereat   sun-fish  at   the  rio;ht 
hand,  let  me  steer  for  it;"  and  silently  the  paddle 
would  move  us  toward  it,  my  brother  motioning 
mo  with    his    hand   either    to   hold   back  or  turn 
more  this  way,  or  that,  as  seemed  necessary.     *'  I 


i; 


I  *i 


96 


Ilenry^s  Cold  Bath. 


4 


wondor  if  lie'll  get  iiim  !  "  would  rise  in  my  mind, 
as  the  spear  was  slowly  poised.  "  Will  lie  dart 
off?"  "He  moves  a  little  —  all!  -there's  a  great 
pike  ;  make  a  dart  at  him  —  whew,  he's  gone  !  " 
and,  sure  enough,  only  the  bare  ground  was  visi  jle. 
Perhaps  the  next  was  a  white-fish,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment a  successful  throw  would  transfix  it,  and  then, 
the  next,  it  would  be  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe. 
But  it  was  not  always  plain  sailing  with  us,  for 
Henry  was  so  fierce  in  his  thrusts  at  first,  that,  one 
night,  when  he  made  sure  of  getting  a  fine  bass  he 
saw,  he  overbalanced  himself  with  a  jerk,  and  went 
in  along  with  the  spear,  head  over  heels.  The 
water  was  not  deep  enough  to  do  him  any  harm, 
but  you  may  be  sure  we  did  not  fish  any  more  that 
night.  Picking  himself  up,  the  unfortunate  wight 
vented  his  indignation  on  the  poor  fish,  which,  by 
most  extraodinary  logic,  he  blamed  for  his  calamity. 
I  couldn't  for  the  world  help  laughing  ;  nor  could 
Henry  himself,  when  he  had  got  a  little  over  liis 
first  feelings  of  astonishment  and  mortification. 

The  quantity  offish  that  some  can  get  in  a  night's 
spearing  is  often  wonderful.  I  have  watched  Cour- 
tenay,  on  a  night  when  fish  were  plenty,  liftiiiii 
them  from  the  water  almost  every  minute,  thouoh 
very  few  were  larger  than  herrings,  and  he  had 
only  their  backs  at  which  to  aim.  In  some  parts 
of  Canada  there  was  higher  game  than  in  our 
waters  —  the  salmon-trout,  which  is  often  as  largo 
as  our  salmon,  and  the  "  maskeloiige,"  a  corruption 


e. 
o- 

oe. 
for 
one 
he 
/cnt 


TV 


\e 


arm, 
that 
;ht 

mity. 


nil 


cou 


Id 
liis 


hs: 


ht' 


ICouv- 
liftin^ 


lioin 


had 


parts 
oiu' 
largo 


In 


kptio 


§    fi 


'ih 


n 


«'  *•' 


1 

liil 

m 

1   EHiKfl':!: 

n^i 

,  !>■: 

1 

• 

!  m 

1 

1 

'1 

Is 

1   li-i'i.H 

1 

1 

t'''  , ; 

i 

1 

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i  'i-" 

'i   i 

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r 

4  '; 

i 

u 

1 

ii 

II :' 

i'^^ 

■ 

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f 

f 

'• 

i 

^ 

'  ■"' 

ol 

ki 

bo 
of 
is  1 

IlK 

the 
1 
and 
hott 
quel 
comi 
from 
Were 
ever 
had 
aim 
violer 
temp 
so  wee 
calve-s 
Tiler 
both  i 
in  tiie 
til  ere 
'uive  St 
the  w( 
Wealth 
murmu 


OS 


•e 
ii 


Canadian  Tlimider storms. 


97 


of  tlie  French  words  "  masque  "  and  "  longue,"  a 
kind  of  pike  with  a  projecting  snout,  wlience  its 
name  —  offering  a  prize  of  which  we  could  not 
boast.  It  must  be  hard  work  to  get  such  prey  out 
of  the  water,  but  the  harder  it  is  the  more  exciting 
is  the  sport  for  those  Avho  are  strong  enough.  The 
Indians  in  some  districts  live  to  a  great  extent  on 
the  fish  they  get  in  this  way. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  to  speak  of  the  thunder 
and  lightning  which  broke  on  the  sultriness  of  our 
hottest  summer  weather.  Rain  is  much  less  fre- 
quent in  Canada  than  in  Britain,  but  when  it  does 
come,  it  often  comes  in  earnest.  It  used  to  rebound 
from  the  ground  for  inclies,  and  a  very  few  minutes 
were  sufficient  to  make  small  torrents  run  down 
every  slope  in  the  ground.  When  we  afterwards 
had  a  garden  in  front  of  the  house,  we  found  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  keep  the  soil  on  it  from  the 
violence  of  the  rains.  Indeed,  we  gave  up  the  at- 
tempt, on  finding  every  thing  we  tried  fail,  and 
sowed  it  all  with  grass,  to  the  great  delight  of  the 
calves,  to  whom  it  was  made  over  as  a  nursery. 
There  is  music,  no  doubt,  in  the  sound  of  rain, 
both  in  the  light  patter  of  a  summer  shower,  and 
in  the  big  drops  that  dance  on  the  ground ;  but 
there  are  differences  in  this  as  in  other  kinds.  I 
have  stood  sometimes  below  the  green  branches  in 
the  woods,  when  a  thin  cloud  was  dropping  its 
wealth  on  them,  and  have  been  charmed  by  the 
mm'mur.     But  the   heavy  rain   that   came   most 


■;"  I- 

"il 

III. 


;  if; 


i;  ^: 


Canadian-  TImnder storms. 

frequently  in  the  liot  weather,  falh'ng  as  if  tlirouf^li 
some  vast  cullender,  was  more  solemn,  and  lilled 
you  with  something  like  awe.  It  was  often  ac- 
companied by  thunder  and  lightning,  such  as  those 
who  live  in  cooler  climates  seldom  hear  or  see. 
The  amount  of  the  electricity  in  the  atmosphere  of 
any  country  depends  very  much  on  the  lieat  of  the 
weather.  Captain  Grayhame,  who  had  command- 
ed a  frigate  on  the  East  India  station,  told  me  once, 
when  on  a  short  visit,  that,  in  the  Straits  of  Ma- 
lacca, he  had  to  order  the  sails  to  be  furled  every 
day  at  one  o'clock,  a  thunderstorm  coming  on  regu- 
larly at  that  hour,  accompanied  with  wind  so  terri- 
ble, that  the  canvas  of  the  ship  would  often  have 
been  torn  into  ribbons,  and  knotted  into  hard  lumps, 
if  he  had  not  done  so.  Thunderstorms  are  not  so 
exact  nor  so  frequent  in  Canada,  but  they  came  too 
often  in  some  years  for  my  taste.  I  was  startled 
out  of  my  sleep  one  night  by  a  peal  that  must  have 
burst  within  a  few  yards  of  the  house,  the  noise 
exceeding  any  thing  I  ever  heard  before  or  since. 
You  don't  know  what  thunder  is  till  a  cloud  is  fired 
that  way  at  your  ear.  Our  poor  dog  Yorick, 
which  we  liad  brought  from  England  with  us,  was 
so  terrified  at  the  violence  of  the  storms  that  broke 
over  us  once  and  again,  that  he  used  to  jump  in 
through  any  open  window,  if  the  door  were  shut, 
and  hide  himself  under  the  bed  till  all  was  quiet. 
He  lost  his  life  at  last,  poor  brute,  through  his  ter- 
ror at  thunder,  for  one  day  when  it  had  come  on, 


'I 


Canadian  Thunder  storms. 


99 


the  windows  and  doors  happening  to  bo  closed,  lie 
nislu'il  into  tlie  woods  in  his  mortal  i'ear,  and  com- 
ing on  the  shanty  of  a  settler,  flew  in  and  secreted 
hiniselt'  below  his  accustomed  shelter,  the  bed. 
The  owner  of  the  house,  not  knowing  the  facts  of 
the  case,  naturally  enough  took  it  for  granted  that 
the  dog  was  mad,  and  forthwith  put  an  end  to  his 
troubles  by  shooting  him.  It  was  a  great  grief  to 
us  all  to  lose  so  kind  and  intelligent  a  creature,  but 
we  could  hardly  blame  his  destroyer. 

There  is  a  wonderful  sublimity  sometimes  in  the 
darkness  and  solemn  hush  of  nature  that  jioes  before 
one  of  these  storms.  It  seems  as  if  the  pulse  of  all 
things  were  stopped.  The  leaves  tremble,  though 
tlicre  is  not  a  breath  of  wind  ;  the  birds  either  hide 
in  the  forest,  or  fly  low  in  terror ;  the  waters  look 
black,  and  are  ruffled  over  all  their  surface.  It 
seems  as  if  all  things  around  knew  of  the  impend- 
ing terrors.  I  never  was  more  awed  in  my  life,  I 
think,  than  at  the  sight  of  the  heavens  and  the 
accoini)anying  suspense  of  nature  one  afternoon,  in 
the  first  summer  we  were  on  the  river.  The 
tempest  had  not  burst,  but  it  lay  in  the  bosom  of 
portentous  clouds,  of  a  strange,  unearthly  look  and 
color,  that  came  down  to  within  a  very  short  dis- 
tance of  the  earth.  Not  a  sound  broke  the  awful 
silence ;  the  wind,  as  well  as  all  tilings  else,  was  still, 
and  yet  the  storm-clouds  moved  steadily  to  the  south, 
apparently  only  a  very  few  yards  higher  than  the 
trees.     The  darkness  was  like  that  of  an  eclipse, 


■■■  t  H 


m 


iOO 


Canadian  Thunderstorms. 


•  ih 


hi 


I 


and  no  one  could  have  said  at  what  instant  the 
j)rison  of  tlic  H^htnings  and  thunders  would  rend 
above  him  and  envelope  him  in  its  liorrors.  I 
jould  not,  dared  not  stir,  but  stood  wliere  I  was  till 
die  great  gray  masses,  through  which  it  seemed  Jis 
if  I  could  see  the  shinnner  of  the  aerial  fires,  liad 
mailed  slowly  over  to  the  other  side  of  tlie  river, 
and  the  light,  in  part,  returned. 

The  liiihtnino;  used  to  leave  curious  traces  of  its 
visits  in  its  effects  on  isolated  trees  all  round. 
There  was  a  huge  pine  in  a  field  at  the  back  of  the 
house  that  had  been  its  sport  more  than  once.  The 
great  top  had  b(*en  torn  off,  and  the  tinink  was  split 
into  ribbons,  which  hunjx  far  down  the  sides. 
Many  others,  which  I  have  seen  in  different  parts, 
had  been  ploughed  into  deep  furrows  almost  from 
top  to  bottom.  The  telegraph-posts,  since  they 
have  been  erected,  have  been  an  especial  attraction. 
I  have  seen  fully  a  dozen  of  them  in  one  long  stretch 
split  uj>,  and  torn  spirally,  through  their  w^holc 
length,  by  a  flasli  which  had  struck  the  wire  and 
run  along  it.  That  more  people  are  not  killed  by 
it  seems  wonderful ;  yet  there  are  many  accidents 
of  this  kind,  after  all.  In  the  first  or  second  year 
of  our  settlement,  a  widow  lady,  living  a  few  miles 
up  the  river,  was  found  dead  in  her  bed,  killed  in  a 
storm,  and  we  afterwards  heard  of  sevei'al  others 
perishing  in  the  same  way. 

Hail  often  accompanies  thunder  and  lightning  in 
Canada,  and  the  pieces  are  sometimes  of  a  size  that 


I 


Our  Gloriouf  Avtumns. 


101 


«V  ?»^<'.'' 


lets  one  sympatliize  witli  tlie  Egyptians  when  Mo- 
ses sent  down  a  similar  visitation  on  tbem.  I  re- 
member reading  of  a  hailstorm  on  the  llJnck  Sea  in 
the  midst  of  hot  weatlier,  the  j^ieces  in  wlii.'h  were, 
some  of  them,  a  pound  weiglit,  threatening  de.^th  to 
any  one  they  might  strike.  I  n'jver  saw  tliem  such 
a  size  in  Canathi,  hut  used  to  think  tliat  it  was  bad 
enough  to  have  tliem  an  incli  and  a  half  long.  They 
must  be  formed  by  a  cloud  being  whirled  up,  by 
some  current  in  the  air,  to  such  a  height  as  freezes 
its  contents,  even  in  the  heat  of  summer. 

The  weather  in  the  fall  was  dehVhtful  —  better, 
I  think,  than  in  any  other  season  of  the  y^ar.  Get- 
ting its  name  from  the  bemnnino;  of  the  f.\ll  of  tb« 
leaves,  this  season  lasts  on  till  winter  pushes  it  asidcs 
Day  after  day  was  bright  and  almost  cloudlws,  an^^ 
the  heat  had  passed  into  a  balmy  mildness,  whici 
made  the  very  feeling  of  being  alive  a  plcasur* 
Every  thing  combined  to  make  the  landscape  bear 
tiful.  The  great  resplendent  river,  flowing  so  soft 
ly  it  seemed  scarce  to  move  —  its  bosom  a  broac 
sheet  of  molten  silver,  on  which  clouds,  and  sky, 
and  white  sails,  and  even  the  further  banks,  with 
die  houses,  and  fields,  and  woods,  far  back  from 
the  water,  were  painted  as  in  a  magic  mirror  —  was 
i^  beautiful  sight,  of  which  w^e  never  tired  ;  like  the 
swans  in  St.  Mary's  Loch,  which,  Wordsworth  says, 
"  float  double,  swan  and  shadow,"  we  had  ships  in 
as  well  as  on  the  waters ;  and  not  a  branch,  nor 
twig,  nor  leaf  of  the  great  trees,  nor  of  the  bushes, 


ci^  it , 


to* 

9m 


ill, 

i  f  i- 

I  u 


ft 


102 


Our  Glorious  Autumns, 


:  \ 


nor  a  touch  in  the  open  landscape,  was  wanting, 
as  we  jKitldlc'd  alon<i  the  shores,  or  K)oked  across. 
And  wliat  shall  1  say  of  the  sunsets?     Milton 

says  — 

"  Now  cnnic  still  evening  on,  and  t\vili;;lit  gra^ 
Had  in  her  sober  livery  all  tliinj^s  dad." 

but  this  would  not  do  for  some  of  those  autumn  days. 
The  yellow  li<i;ht  would  fill  earth,  and  ah*,  and  sky. 
The  trees,  seen  between  you  and  the  setting  sun, 
were  shining  amber,  in  trunk,  and  branch,  and  leaf; 
and  the  windows  of  neio;hbors'  houses  were  tlamino; 
gold  ;  while  liere  and  there  branches  on  which  the 
sun  shone  at  a  difierent  ano;le  seemed  li";ht  itself; 
and  in  the  distance  tlie  smoke  rose  pur])le,  till,  while 
you  gazed,  the  whole  vision  faded,  and  faded,  through 
every  shade  of  green  and  violet,  into  the  dark-blue 
of  the  stars. 

By  the  beginning  of  September  the  first  frosts  had 
touched  the  trees,  and  tlie  change  of  color  in  the 
leaves  at  once  set  in.  It  is  only  when  this  has  taken 
place  that  the  forests  put  on  their  greatest  beauty ; 
though,  indeed,  a  feelinn:  of  sadness  was  always  asso- 
ciated  with  these  autumnal  splendors,  connected  as 
they  are,  like  the  last  colors  of  the  dolphin,  with 
thoughts  of  decay  and  death.  With  each  day,  after 
the  cliange  had  commenced,  the  beauty  increased. 
Each  kind  of  tree  —  the  oak,  the  elm,  the  beech,  the 
ash,  the  birch,  the  walnut,  and,  above  all,  the  ma- 
ple —  had  its  own  hue,  and  every  hue  was  lovely. 


mi 


The  Clianyc  of  the  Leaf. 


loa 


Tlioii  tlitTo  wore  the  solemn  pines,  an  taniiiraeks, 
and  cedars,  setting  ott'  the  clianns  of  their  *;ayer 
l)rethren  by  tlieir  sober  green,  whieli  at  a  distance 
looked  almost  black.  The  maple-leaf,  the  fii-st  to 
color,  remained,  thron«i;hout,  the  most  beautiful,  in 
its  iiolden  yellow  and  crimson.  No  wontler  it  has 
become  to  Canada  what  the  shanu'ock  is  to  Ireland, 
or  the  rose  and  the  thistle,  to  England  and  Scotland. 
Uhe  woods  look  finest,  I  think,  when  the  tints  are 
just  beginning,  and  green,  yellow,  and  scarlet  are 
mingled  in  every  shade  of  transition.  But  what 
siieets  of  golden  flame  they  became  after  a  time  ! 
Then  every  leaf  had  something  of  its  own  in  which 
it  differed  from  all  others.  Yonder,  the  colors 
blended  together  into  pink  of  the  brightest  tint ;  then 
came  a  dash  of  lilac  and  blue,  and,  away  by  itself, 
a  clump  rose,  like  an  islet,  of  glowing  red  gold. 
Lofty  trees,  and  humble  undergrowth,  and  climb- 
ing creepers  —  all  alike  owned  the  magic  influence, 
and  decked  the  landscape  with  every  tint  that  can 
be  borrowed  from  the  light,  till  the  whole  looked 
like  the  scenery  of  some  fsiiry  tale. 

The  sunsets,  as  the  year  deeixined  into  winter, 
grew,  I  thought,  if  possible,  more  and  more  glori- 
ous. The  light  sank  behind  mountains  of  gold  and 
purple,  and  shot  up  its  splendors,  from  beyond,  on 
every  bar  and  fleck  of  cloud,  to  the  zenith.  Then 
came  the  slow  advance  of  night,  with  the  day  re- 
treating; from  before  it  to  the  glorious  ixates  of  the 
west,  at  first  in  a  flush  of  crimson,  then  in  a  flood 


104 


Indian  Summer, 


i- 

• 

;. 

i 

' 

* 

I,  i  V 


iis 


:  I 


of  amber,  till  at  last,  witli  a  Hn^'oritifr  farewell,  it 
left  us  in  paler  and  paler  ^reen.  I  have  seen 
every  tree  turned  into  «:;<)ld  as  1  l<M)ked  across  the 
river,  as  the  evening  fell.  Mihnan  speaks,  in  one 
of  his  poems,  of  the  "  ^idldcn  air  of  heaven."  Such 
sijL^hts  as  these  sunsets  make  the  imao;c»  a  reality, 
and  almost  involuntarily  lead  one,  as  he  <:;azes  on 
the  wide  ^lory  that  rests  on  all  thino;.s,  to  think 
how  beautiful  the  better  world  nuist  be  if  this  one 
be  so  lovely. 

The  Indian  summer  came  with  the  end  of  Octo- 
ber and  lasted  about  ten  days,  a  n;ood  deal  of  rain 
havin<;  fallen  just  before.  While  it  lasted,  it  was 
deliciously  mild,  like  the  finest  April  weather  in 
England.  A  soft  mist  hung  over  the  whole  pano- 
rama round  us,  mellowing  every  thing  to  a  peculiar 
spiritual  beauty.  The  sun  rose,  and  travelled 
through  the  day,  and  set,  behind  a  veil  of  haze, 
through  which  it  showed  like  a  great  crate  of  glow- 
ino;  embers.  As  it  rose,  the  liaze  reddened  hiiiher 
and  liigher  up  the  sky,  till,  at  noon,  the  heavens 
were  like  the  hollow  of  a  vast  half-transparent  rose, 
shutting  out  the  blue.  It  was  like  the  dreamy 
days  of  Thomson's  "  Castle  of  Indolence,"  where 
every  thing  invited  to  repose.  You  could  look  at 
the  sun  at  any  hour,  and  yet  the  view  around  was 
not  destroyed,  but  rather  made  more  lovely. 
What  the  cause  of  this  phenomenon  may  be  I  have 
never  been  able  to  find  out.  One  writer  suggests 
one   thing,    and   another   something   else ;    but   it 


!•' V' 


Indian  Suinmer, 


105 


seems  us  if  nobody  knew  the  true  reason  of  it.  If 
I  ini«;ht  venture  a  fjuess,  I  would  say  that  perliaps 
it  arises  from  the  condensation  of  tlie  vapors  of  the 
eartli  by  tlie  first  frosts,  while  the  sunnner  and  au- 
tiunn  lieats  arc  yet  great  enough  in  the  soil  to  cause 
them  to  rise  in  abundance. 

IJoth  before  and  after  the  Indian  summer  the 
first  unmistakable  heralds  of  winter  visited  us,  in 
the  shape  of  morning  hoar-frost,  whicli  melted 
nway  as  the  day  advanced.  It  was  womlcrfully 
beautiful  to  look  at  it,  in  its  effects  on  tin  infinitely- 
varied  colors  of  the  leaves  which  still  clung  to  the 
trees.  Its  silver  dust,  powdered  over  the  golden 
yellow  of  some,  and  the  bright-red,  or  dark-brown, 
or  green  of  others,  the  minutest  outline  of  each 
preserved,  looked  charming  in  the  extreme.  Then, 
not  only  the  leaves,  but  the  trunks,  and  branches, 
and  lightest  sprays,  were  crusted  with  the  same 
snowy  film,  till,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  it 
seemed  as  if  some  magical  transformation  had  hap- 
pened in  the  night,  and  a  mockery  of  nature  had 
been  moulded  in  white.  But  what  shall  I  say  of 
tlie  scene  when  the  sun  came  up  in  the  east,  to 
have  his  look  at  it  as  well  as  we  ?  What  rainbow 
tints  of  every  possible  shade  !  what  diamond  spark- 
ling of  millions  of  crystals  at  once  !  It  was  like 
tlie  gardens  of  Aladdin,  with  the  trees  bending 
under  their  wealth  of  rubies,  and  sapphires,  and  all 
things  precious.  But  the  spectacle  was  as  short 
lived  as  it  was  lovely.  By  noon,  the  laiit  trace  was 
gon«. 


I  m 


if.,     ■■; 


106 


TAe  Fall  Mains  and  the  Moads. 


The  antnmnal  rains  are  of  great  value  to  tlie 
farmers  and  the  country  generally,  by  filling  the 
wells  and  natural  reservoirs,  so  as  to  secure  a  plen- 
tiful supply  of  water  for  winter,,  and  thus  they  were 
welcome  enough  on  this  ground  to  most,  though 
we,  with  tlie  river  at  hand,  could  have  very  well 
done  without  them.  But,  in  their  effects  on  the 
roads,  thev  were  a  cause  of  m'ief  to  all  alike.  Ex- 
cept  near  towns,  the  roads  all  through  Canada 
were,  in  those  days,  what  most  of  them  are,  even 
yet,  only  mud ;  and  hence  you  may  judge  their 
state  after  long-continued  tropical  rains.  All  I 
have  said  of  our  journey  to  the  river  in  the  early 
summer,  might  be  repeated  of  each  returning  fall. 
Men  came  to  the  house  every  day  or  two  to  borrow 
an  axe  or  an  auger,  to  extemporize  some  repair  of 
their  broken-down  wagons  or  vehicles.  One  pitchy 
night  I  came  upon  two  who  were  intensely  busy, 
by  the  light  of  a  lantern,  mending  a  wagon,  with 
the  help  of  a  saw,  an  auger,  an  axe,  and  a  rope. 
Of  course,  I  stopped  to  offer  assistance,  but  I  had 
come  only  in  time  to  be  too  late,  and  was  answered 
that  my  help  was  not  wanted.  "All's  right  — 
there's  no  use  making  a  fuss  —  Jim,  take  back  them 
things  where  you  got  them,  and  let's  go  a-head." 
As  to  thanks  for  my  offer,  it  would  have  been  ex- 
travagant to  expect  them.  They  had  cobbled  their 
vehicle,  and,  on  Jim's  return,  were  off  into  the 
darkness  as  coolly  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
The  dangers  of  the  roads  "are  a  regular  part  of  the 


" 


The  FaU  Rains  and  the  Roads, 


107 


calculations  of  the  back-country  Canadians,  to  en- 
counter which  they  carry  an  axe,  a  wrench,  and  a 
piece  of  rope,  which  are  generally  enough  for  the 
rude  wheelwright  surgery  required.  It  is  amusing 
to  hear  with  what  perfect  indifference  they  treat 
misadventures  which  would  totally  disconcert  an 
old  countryman.  I  remember  a  man  whom  I  met 
patching  up  his  light  wagon  —  which  is  the  name 
for  a  four-wheeled  gig:  —  setting  me  laughing  at  his 
account  of  his  triumphs  over  all  the  accidents  of 
travel.  "  I  never  was  stopped  yet,"  he  went  on  to 
assure  me.  "  Once  I  was  in  my  buggy,  and  ther 
tire  of  one  of  the  wheels  came  off  without  my  no- 
ticing ;  I  ran  back  some  miles  to  try  if  I  could  get 
it,  but  I  couldn't  find  it.  But  I  guess  I  never  say 
die,  so  I  took  a  rail  and  stuck  it  in  below  the  lame 
corner,  and  I  tell  you  we  made  the  dust  fly !  " 

A  little  brick  church  had  been  built  about  two 
miles  from  us,  some  time  before  we  came  to  the 
river,  but  the  mud  was  a  sure  hinderance  to -such  of 
*]ie  congregation  as  corld  not  come  by  water. 
Any  attempt  at  week-night  meetings  of  any  kind 
was,  of  course,  out  of  the  question.  We  were  pret- 
ty nearly  close  prisoners  till  the  frost  should  come 
to  relieve  us. 

As  in  many  other  cases,  however,  this  first  step 
towards  cure  was  almost  worse  than  the  disease. 
The  frost  often  came  in  bitter  fierceness  for  some 
time  before  any  snow  fell,  and  then,  who  shall  sing 
in  sad   enough   strains   the   state   of  the   roads? 


108 


The  Fall  liains  and  the  Roads. 


I. 


.[% 


m 

III 

H 

1;^ 

fflf 

■ 

<,, 

■  "X 

!?  ill'^*! 


Wm 


h.iii; 


Imagine  mile  after  mile  of  mud,  first  poached  into 
a  long  honeycomb  by  the  oxen  and  horses,  and  cut 
into  longitudinal  holes  by  the  wheels,  then  frozen, 
in  this  state,  in  a  night,  into  stone.  I  once  had  to 
ride  nearly  sixty  miles  over  such  a  set  of  pitfalls. 
My  brother  Frederic  was  with  me,  but  he  had 
slipped  in  the  stable  and  sprained  his  shoulder,  so 
that  I  had  almost  to  lift  him  into  the  saddle.  He 
came  with  me  to  lead  back  my  horse  at  the  sixty 
miles'  end,  where  the  roads  permitted  the  stage  to 
run  for  my  further  journey.  We  were  two  days 
on  the  way,  and  such  days.  The  thermometer 
was  below  zero,  our  breath  froze  on  our  eyelashes 
every  minute,  and  the  horses  had  long  icicles  at 
their  noses,  and  yet  we  could  only  stumble  on  at  a 
slow  walk,  the  horses  picking  theii*  steps  with  the 
greatest  difficulty,  and  every  now  and  then  coming 
down  almost  on  their  knees.  Sometimes  we  got 
so  cold  we  had  to  get  off  and  walk  with  the  bridles 
on  our  arms ;  and  then  there  was  the  getting 
Frederic  mounted  a^iiin.  I  thouijjht  we  should 
never  get  to  the  end  of  the  first  day's  ride.  It  got 
dark  long  before  we  reached  it,  and  we  were  afraiil 
to  sit  any  longer  on  the  horses,  so  that  we  finished 
it  by  groping  in  the  pitchy  darkness,  as  well  as  we 
could,  for  some  miles. 

The  first  snow  fell  in  November,  and  lay,  that 
year,  from  that  time  until  April.  The  climate 
has  become  much  milder  since,  from  the  great 
extent  of  the  clearings,  I  suppose,  so  that  snow 


m 


rPf 


The  First  Snow. 


109 


does  not  lie,  now-a-days,  as  it  did  then,  and  does 
not  begin  for  nearly  a  month  later.  I  have  often 
heard  Canadians  deploring  the  change  in  this  re- 
spect, as,  indeed,  they  well  may  in  the  rougher 
parts  of  the  country,  for  the  winter  snow,  by  filling 
up  the  holes  in  the  roads  and  freezing  the  wet 
places,  as  well  as  by  its  smooth  surface,  enables 
tliein  to  bring  heavy  loads  of  all  kinds  to  market, 
from  places  which  are  wholly  shut  up  at  other 
seasons,  if  they  had  the  leisure  to  employ  in  that 
way,  at  any  other,  which  they  have  not.  The 
snow  is,  consequently,  as  welcome  in  Canada  as  the 
summer  is  elsewhere,  and  a  deficiency  of  it  is  a 
heavy  loss.  When  we  first  settled,  the  quantity 
tliat  fell  was  often  very  great,  and  as  none  melted, 
except  during  the  periodical  thaw  in  January,  the 
accumulation  became  quite  formidable  by  spring. 
It  was  never  so  bad,  however,  by  any  means,  as  at 
Quebec,  where  the  houses  have  flights  of  steps  up 
to  the  door  to  let  folks  always  get  in  and  out 
tlirough  the  wii  ter,  the  doors  being  put  at  high 
snow-mark,  if  I  may  so  speak.  I  have  sometimes 
seen  the  stumps  quite  hidden  and  the  fences  dwarfed 
to  a  very  Lilliputain  height ;  but,  of  late  years, 
there  have  been  some  winters  when  there  has  h^j^dly 
been  enough  to  cover  the  m'ound,  and  the  wheat 
has  in  many  parts  been  killed,  to  a  large  extent, 
by  the  frost  and  thaws,  which  it  cannot  stand  when 
uncovered.  People  in  Britain  often  make  great 
mistakes  about  the  appearance  of  Canada  in  winter, 

10 


no 


Canada  in  Winter. 


thinking,  as  I  remember  we  did,  tliat  we  should 
have  ahnost  to  get  down  to  our  houses  through  the 
snow  for  months  together.  The  whole  depth  may 
often,  now-a-days,  in  the  open  country,  be  meas- 
ured by  inches,  though  it  still  keeps  up  its  old 
glory  in  the  bush,  and  lies  for  months  together, 
instead  of  melting  off  in  a  few  days,  as  it  very  fre- 
quently does  round  the  towns  and  cities.  I  re- 
member an  account  of  the  Canadian  climate  given 
by  a  very  witty  man,  now  dead.  Dr.  Dunlop,  of 
Lake  Huron,  as  the  report  sent  home  respecting  it 
by  an  Englishman  to  his  friends,  whom  he  informed, 
that  for  four  months  in  the  year  you  were  up  to 
the  neck  in  mud ;  for  four  more,  you  were  either 
burned  up  by  the  heat  or  stung  to  death  by  mos- 
quitoes, and,  for  the  other  four,  if  yo<i  managed  to 
get  your  nose  above  the  snow  it  was  only  to  have 
it  bitten  off  by  the  frost.  All  the  evils  thus  ar- 
rayed are  bad  enough,  but  the  writer's  humor 
joined  with  his  imagination  in  making  an  outrage- 
ous caricature  when  he  spoke  thus.  A  Frenchman, 
writing  about  England,  would  perhaps  say  as  much 
against  its  climate,  and  perhaps  with  a  nearer  ap- 
proach to  truth.  I  remember  travelling  with  one 
in  the  railway  from  Wolverhampton  to  London,  on 
a  very  bad  day  in  winter,  whose  opinion  of  the 
English  climate  was,  "  cleemate,  it's  no  cleemate  — 
it's  only  yellow  fogue."  Robert  Southey,  as  true 
an  Englishman  as  ever  lived,  in  the  delio-htful  letters 
published  in  his  life,  constantly  abuses  it  in  a  most 


I  1 


% 


Climate  in  America. 


Ill 


extraordinary  way,  and  I  suppose  there  are  otheiS 
who  abuse  that  of  every  otlier  country  in  which 
tliey  chance  to  live.  We  can  have  notliing  just  as 
we  would  like  it,  and  must  always  set  the  bright 
side  over  against  the  dark.  For  my  part,  I  think 
that,  though  Canada  has  its  charms  at  some  seasons, 
and  redeeming  points  in  all,  there  is  no  place  like 
dear  Old  England,  in  spite  of  its  fogs  and  drizzle, 
and  tlie  colds  they  bring  in  their  train. 

The  question  often  rises  respecting  the  climate 
in  America,  since  it  has  grown  so  nuich  milder  in 
comparatively  few  years,  whether  it  will  ever  grow 
any  thing  like  our  own  in  its  range  of  cold  and 
heat.  That  many  countries  have  changed  greatly 
within  historical  periods  is  certain.  The  climate 
of  England,  in  the  days  of  the  Norman  conquest, 
is  thought  by  many  to  have  been  like  that  of 
Canada  now.  Horace  hints  at  ice  and  snow  being 
no  strancrers  at  Rome  in  the  time  of  Augustus, 
Caesar  led  his  army  over  the  frozen  Rhone ;  and, 
as  to  Germany,  the  description  of  its  climate  in 
Tacitus  is  fit  to  make  one  shiver.  But  we  have, 
unfortunately,  an  opportunity  afforded  us  by  the 
case  of  New  England,  of  seeing  that  two  hundred 
years'  occupation  of  an  American  province,  though 
it  may  lessen  the  quantity  of  snow,  has  no  effect  in 
tempering  the  severity  of  the  cold  in  winter,  or 
abating  the  heat  in  summer.  Connecticut  and 
Massachusetts  are  as  cold  as  Canada,  if  not  colder, 
and  yet  they  are  long-settled  countries.     The  great 


'ii;» 


f     ■  •! 


^■f      ij 


'Hi 
I'll 


112 


A  Winter  Landscape. 


Icy  continent  to  the  north  forbids  the  hope  of  Canada 
ever  being,  in  any  strict  sense  of  the  term,  temper- 
ate. Even  in  the  open  prairies  of  Wisconsin  and 
Iowa,  the  blasts  that  sweep  from  the  awful  Arctic 
deserts  are  keen  beyond  the  conception  of  those 
who  never  felt  them.  It  is  the  fact  of  Britain  being 
an  island  that  has  made  the  change  in  its  case,  the 
wind  that  blows  over  the  sea  being  always  much 
cooler  in  summer  and  warmer  in  winter  than  that 
which  blows  over  land. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  beautiful  eifect  of  the  hoar- 
frost on  the  forest ;  that  of  the  snow  is  equally 
striking.  It  is  wonderful  how  much  manag-es  to 
get  itself  heaped  up  on  the  broad  branches  of  pines 
and  cedars,  and  even  on  the  bare  limbs  and  twigs 
of  other  trees,  making  the  landscape  look  most 
amazingly  wintry.  But  I  don't  think  any  one  in 
Canada  ever  heard  of  such  a  quantity  lodging  on 
them  as  to  make  such  an  occurrence  as  Mrs.  Mary 
Somerville  quotes  from  some  traveller  in  her  "  Phys- 
ical Geography,"  where  she  tells  us  that  the  weight 
of  it  on  the  broad  fronds  of  the  pine-trees  is  so  great, 
that,  when  tlie  wind  rises  and  sways  them  to  and 
fi'o,  they  often  tumble  against  each  other  with  such 
force  as  to  overthrow  great  numbers,  over  large  tracts 
of  country.  Such  "  ice-storms,"  as  she  calls  them, 
I  never  heard  of,  nor  did  I  ever  meet  with  any  one 
who  did.  Indeed,  I  rather  think  them  impossible, 
from  the  mere  fact  that,  though  the  force  with  which 
the  first  tree  struck  the  second  might  be  enough  to 


''^  Ice'Storms.^* 


113 


m 


throw  it  down,  that  of  the  second  would  be  much 
weaker  on  a  third,  and  thus  tlie  destruction  would 
cease  almost  at  once,  instead  of  spreading  far  and 
wide.  It  must  be  some  curious  and  incorrect  ver- 
sion of  the  terrible  tornadoes  of  summer  which  she 
lias  quoted. 

The  snow  itself  used  to  give  me  constant  pleas- 
ure in  looking  at  it  minutely.  The  beautiful  shapes 
you  see  in  the  kaleidoscope  are  not  more  wonder- 
ful than  those  of  the  crystals  of  which  it  was  made 
up.  Stars,  crosses,  diamonds,  and  I  know  not 
what  other  shapes,  as  large  almost  as  a  shilling, 
shone  round  you  in  millions  when  the  sun  sent  his 
glittering  light  on  them,  except  in  very  cold  weath- 
er, for  then  the  snow  was  only  a  dry  powder.  What 
a  wonderful  thing  crystallization  is  !  If  you  think 
of  it  for  a  moment  you  will  be  amazed  and  awed, 
for  it  brintjs  us  as  if  face  to  face  with  God.  How 
is  it  that  the  particles  of  snow  range  themselves  in 
the  most  perfect  forms,  far  more  beautifully  than 
any  jeweller  could  make  the  most  costly  ornament? 
There  is  never  an  error  —  never  any  thing  like  a 
tailure.  Every  atom  of  the  dead  cold  snow  has  a 
law  impressed  on  it  by  God,  by  which  it  takes  its 
proper  place  in  building  up  those  fairy  spangles  and 
jewels.  Can  any  thing  be  more  exquisite  than  the 
crvstals  we  find  in  the  rocks  ?  Yet  they  are  built 
up  of  atoms  too  small  for  even  the  microscope  to  de- 
tect, and  are  always  exactly  the  same  shape  in  the 
eame  kind  of  crystal.     Philosophers  think  that  the 

10* 


i  I 


Iff 


[1:! 

"i  ! 

■:■■    I 


si  w 
1  i| . 


114    The  Minute  Perfection  of  GoiVs  Works. 

particles  of  eacli  kind  of  crystal  have  each  the  per- 
fect shape  wliich  tlie  wJiole  crystal  assumes ;  but  if 
this  be  so,  it  makes  the  matter  still  more  womlerful, 
for  what  shall  we  think  of  atoms,  which  no  magnify- 
ing power  can  make  visible,  being  carved  and  jjierced 
and  fretted  into  the  most  lovely  shapes  and  pat- 
terns ?  The  great  power  of  God  is,  I  think,  shown 
even  more  wonderfully  in  the  smallest  than  in  the 
largest  of  His  works.  The  miracles  of  his  creative 
skill  are  lavished  almost  more  profusely  on  its  least 
than  on  its  larger  productions,  in  animate  as  well  as 
inanimate  nature.  The  crystalline  lens  of  a  cod's 
eye  —  that  is,  the  central  hard  part  of  it,  which  is 
very  little  larger  than  a  pea,  and  is  quite  transparent 

—  was  long  thought  to  have  no  special  wonder  in  its 
structure  ;  but  the  microscope  has  shown  latterly, 
that  what  appeared  a  mere  piece  of  hard  jelly,  is 
made  up  of  five  millions  of  distinct  fibres,  which  arc 
locked  into  each  other  by  sixty-two  thousand  mil- 
lions of  teeth  !  The  grasshopper  has  two  hun- 
dred and  seventy  horny  teeth,  set  in  rows  in  his 

gizzard.  A  quarto  volume  has  been  written  on 
the  anatomy  of  the  earth-worm.  At  Bilin,  in  Hun- 
gary, t^ere  is  a  kind  of  stone  which  the  great  micro- 
scopist  —  or  histologist,  as  the  phrase  sometimes  is 

—  Dr.  Elirenberg,  has  found  to  consist,  nearly 
altogether,  of  creatures  so  small  that  three  hundred 
and  thirty  millions  of  them  make  a  piece  only  about 
twice  the  size  of  one  of  the  dice  used  in  backgam- 
mon, and  yet  each  of  these  creatures  is  covered  with 


TJie  Minute  Perfection  of  G-ocTs  Works.    115 


a  coat  of  mail  delicately  carved  all  over.  What 
can  be  more  lovely  than  the  way  in  which  the 
little  feathers  are  laid  on  a  butterHy's  wing,  in  such 
charming  spots  and  bars  of  different  colors  ?  I  was 
looking  some  time  since  at  a  butterfly,  which  was 
of  the  most  perfect  azure  blue  when  you  looked 
down  on  it,  but  changed,  when  you  saw  it  sideways, 
from  one  shade  to  another,  and  asked  an  entomolo- 
gist how  it  was  it  had  so  many  different  tints,  tak- 
ing nearly  every  color  by  turns.  It  is  by  the  won- 
derful arrangement  of  the  feathers,  it  seems,  all  this 
is  done,  the  way  in  which  they  are  laid  on  the  wings 
being  such  as  to  break  the  rays  of  light  into  all  these 
colors,  according  to  the  angle  at  which  it  is  held  to 
the  eye.  How  wonderful  the  Being  whose  very 
smallest  works  are  so  perfect  I 

The  snow  in  cold  countries  is  very  different  in 
appearance  at  different  times,  as  I  have  already  in- 
timated. In  comparatively  mild  weather  it  falls 
and  lies  in  large  soft  flakes ;  but  in  very  cold  weather 
it  comes  down  almost  in  powder,  and  crackles  below 
the  feet  at  each  step.  The  first  showers  seldom  lie, 
the  air  being  too  warm  as  yet;  indeed,  warm,  com- 
fortable days  sometimes  continue  quite  late.  I  re- 
member one  November,  when  we  were  without  fires, 
even  in  the  middle  of  it,  for  some  days  together ; 
and  in  one  extraordinary  December,  ploughs  were 
actually  going  on  Christmas-day ;  but  this  was  as 
<:ivat  a  wonder  as  a  Canadian  frost  would  be  in 
England.     The  first  winter,  enough  fell  in  Novem- 


116 


Dcer-ahooting. 


'Mr 


I '  I'ip 


H 


■ "( 


bcr  to  cover  all  tlie  stumps  in  our  field,  wlilcli  we 
did  not  see  again  for  many  weeks.  The  depth  of 
the  snow  must  have  been  at  least  a  yard.  In  the 
woods,  there  was  only  a  dead  level  of  snow,  instead 
of  the  roujuh  floorino;  of  fallen  loo-s  and  broken 
branches.  At  first  we  could  not  stir  through  it  for 
the  depth,  and  had  to  make  a  path  to  the  barn  and 
to  the  road  ;  but  after  a  time  a  thaw  came  for  a  day 
or  so,  and  some  rain  fell,  and  then  the  surface  of 
the  snow  froze  so  firmly  that  even  the  oxen  could 
walk  over  it  in  any  direction  without  breaking 
through. 

The  falling  of  the  snow  was  a  great  time  for  the 
sportsmen  of  our  household,  for  the  deer  were  then 
most  easily  killed,  the  snow,  while  soft,  showing  their 
tracks,  and  also  making  them  less  timid,  by  forcing 
them  to  seek  far  and  near  for  their  food.  Our  ri- 
fles were,  consequently,  put  in  the  best  order  as  soon 
as  the  ground  was  white ;  and  each  of  us  saw,  in 
imagination,  whole  herds  of  stags  which  he  had 
brought  down.  Frederic,  who  had  been  left  in  To- 
ronto, having  suffered  in  health  by  the  confinement 
of  his  office,  had  given  it  up,  and  had  joined  us 
some  time  before  this,  so  that  there  were  now  five 
of  us,  besides  my  two  sisters.  We  had  three  rifles 
and  one  gun,  the  rifle  which  David  carried  bein^ 
an  especially  good  one.  But  he  was  the  poorest 
shot  of  us  all,  and  Robert  was  too  nervous  to  be  sure 
of  his  aim  ;  but  Henry  was  as  cool  before  a  stag  as 
if  it  had  been  a  rabbit.     We  were  all  in  a  state  of 


Deer-shootuii/. 


117 


great  L\.jj;ernes.s  to  commence,  and  had  already  looked 
out  white  clothes  to  put  on  over  our  ordinary  suit, 
that  we  might  be  more  like  the  snow  ;  an  extra  suj)- 
ply  of  bullets  and  powder  had  been  put  into  our 
pouches  and  flasks  ;  and  we  had  pestered  every  one^, 
for  weeks  before,  with  every  possible  question  as 
to  what  jve  were  to  do  when  we  set  out.  On 
the  eventful  day,  my  brothers,  Robert,  Henry,  and 
David,  got  their  rifles  on  their  shoulders  immedi- 
ately after  breakfast,  and,  having  determined  on 
taking  each  a  different  road,  struck  into  the  woods 
as  each  thought  best.  Shortly  before  dark  we 
heard  David's  voice  in  the  clearing,  and,  soon  after, 
Robert  and  Henry  made  their  appearance.  We 
were  all  out  in  a  moment  to  see  what  they 
had  got,  but  found  them  by  no  means  disposed 
to  be  talkative  about  their  adventures.  We  grad- 
ually learned,  however,  that  they  had  all  had 
a  hard  day's  trudge  through  the  rough,  weari- 
some woods,  and  that  Robert  had  had  one  good 
chance  through  the  day,  but  was  so  flustered 
when  the  deer  sprang  away  through  the  tree, 
that  he  could  not  raise  his  rifle  in  time,  and  had 
fired  rather  at  where  it  had  been  than  at  where  it 
was.  David  declared  that  he  had  walked  forty 
miles,  he  supposed,  and  had  seen  nothing,  though, 
if  he  had  seen  only  as  much  as  a  buck's  tail,  he  was 
sure  he  would  have  brought  it  down.  Henry  said 
that,  do  his  best,  he  could  not  get  near  enough,  what 
with  the  wind  and  the  crackling  of  something  or 


di  jiri. 


fig: 


1.  ^m> 


m. 


Ifi'l 


-*• 


Jl|^  Mil 


S    i 


IF    i  :  ,i.     ' 


til* 


118 


Deer-shootinff. 


other.  Tlic  fact  was  timt  they  were  raw  liaiids,  and 
needed  some  trainin*;^,  and  had  liad  to  sutter  the 
usual  penalty  of  over-confidence,  in  rea})ing  only 
disaj)pointmcnt.  They  felt  this  indeed  so  much, 
that  it  was  some  time  before  they  would  venture 
out  alone  ao;ain,  preferring  to  accompany  an  old 
hunter. who  lived  near  us,  until  they  lyid  caught 
the  art  from  him.  Henry  went  out  with  an  Indian, 
also,  once,  and  thus  gradually  became  able  to  man- 
age by  himself.  He  had  the  honor  of  killing  the 
first  deer,  and  setting  up  the  trophy  of  its  horns. 
He  had  walked  for  liours,  thinking  every  little  while 
lie  saw  something  through  the  trees,  but  had  been 
disappointed,  until,  towards  midday,  when,  at  last, 
he  came  upon  a  couple  browsing  on  the  tender  tips 
of  the  brush,  at  a  long  distance  from  him.  Then 
came  the  hardest  part  of  the  day's  work,  to  get 
Avithin  shot  of  them  without  Icttino;  them  hear  or 
smell  him.  He  had  to  dodge  from  tree  to  tree,  and 
would  look  out  every  minute  to  see  if  they  were 
still  there.  Sove  al  times  the  buck  pricked  its  ears, 
and  looked  al'  round  it,  as  if  about  to  run  off,  mak- 
ing him  almost  hold  his  breath  with  anxiety  lest  it 
should  do  so  ;  but,  at  last,  he  got  near  enough,  and 
taking  a  good  aim  at  it  from  behind  a  tree,  drew  the 
trigger.  A  spring  forward,  and  a  visible  moment- 
ary quiver,  showed  that  he  had  hit  it ;  but  it  did  not 
immediately  fall,  but  ran  off  with  the  other  through 
the  woods.  Instantly  dasning  out  to  the  spot  where 
it  had  stood,  Henry  followed  its  track,  aided  by  the 


iHMki 


Deer-shootinj. 


119 


blood  wliich  every  liere  and  tlieie  lay  on  the  snow. 
He  thouulit  at  fii-st  he  would  come  up  with  it  in  a 
few  hundred  yards,  but  it  led  him  a  lon^;  weary 
chase  orn^'arly  two  mile>'  before  he  <i;ot  within  sight 
of  it.  It  had  ?ont;..M  I  to  run  until  weakness  from 
the  loss  of  blood  liad  ov  -rpowered  it,  and  it  lay  quite 
dead  when  Henry  reac.ied  it.  It  was  too  <j;reat  a 
weio;ht  for  him  to  think  of  carrvinjj;  home  himself, 
so  that  he  determined  to  cut  it  up,  and  haijg  the 
pieces  on  the  neighboring  branches,  till  he  could 
come  back  next  morning  with  some  of  us  and  fetch 
tliem.  Copying  the  example  of  the  old  hunter 
whom  he  had  made  his  model,  he  had  taken  a  long 
knife  and  a  small  axe  with  him  ;  and,  after  cutting 
the  throat  to  let  off  what  blood  still  remained,  the 
creature  being  still  wanii,  he  was  not  very  long  of 
stripping  it  of  its  skin,  and  lianging  up  its  dismem- 
bered body,  for  preservation  from  the  wolves 
*tlirouo;h  the  nio;ht.  This  done,  he  made  the  best  of 
his  way  home  to  tell  us  his  achievement. 

Next  day,  we  had  a  grand  banquet  on  venison- 
steaks,  fried  with  ham,  and  potatoes  in  abundance ; 
and  a  better  dish  I  think  I  never  tasted.  Venison 
pie,  and  soup,  for  days  after,  furnished  quite  a  treat 
in  the  house. 

A  few  days  after  this,  while  the  winter  was 
hardly  as  yet  fairly  begun,  David  and  Henry  had 
gone  out  to  their  work  on  the  edge  of  the  woods, 
when  a  deer,  feeding  close  to  them,  lifted  up  its  head, 
And,  looking  back  at  them,  tunied    slowly  away. 


ft   l|Kf  <'i'''f  ■* 

jf   ml  I,  '1  {■, 


Iff:- 


•m  I 


I:' 


4 


iltl 


ri 


H 

V 

■  i 

:1 

y 
^ 

i 

;li 

im. 

120 


Deer-shooting. 


They  were  back  to  the  house  in  a  moment  for  their 
rifles,  and  sallied  forth  after  it,  following  its  track 
to  the  edge  of  the  creek  on  our  lot,  where  it  had 
evidently  crossed  on  the  ice.  David  reached  the 
bank  first ;  and,  naturally  enougii,  thinking  that 
ce  which  bore  up  a  large  deer  would  bear  him  up, 
stepped  on  it  to  continue  the  pursuit.  But  he  had 
forgotten  that  the  deer  had  four  legs,  and  thus 
pressed  comparatively  little  on  any  one  part, 
whereas  his  whole  weight  was  on  one  spot,  and  he 
had^only  reached  the  middle  when  in  he  went,  in  a 
moment,  up  to  his  middle  in  the  freezing  water. 
The  ducking  was  quite  enough  to  cool  his  ardor 
for  that  day,  so  that  we  had  him  back  to  change 
his  clothes  as  soon  as  he  could  get  out  of  his  bath 
and  reach  the  house.  Henry  got  over  the  stream 
on  a  log,  and  followed  the  track  for  some  distance 
further,  but  gave  up  the  chase  on  finding  it  likely 
to  be  unavailing. 

When  we  first  came  to  live  on  the  river,  the 
deer  were  very  numerous.  One  day  in  the  first 
winter  Kobert  saw  a  whole  herd  of  them,  of  some 
eight  or  ten,  feeding  close  to  the  house,  among  our 
cattle,  on  some  browse  which  had  been  felled  for 
them.  Bro>vse,  I  may  say,  is  the  Canadian  word 
for  the  tender  twigs  of  trees,  which  are  so  much 
liked  by  the  oxen  and  cows,  and  even  by  the 
horses,  that  we  used  to  cut  down  a  number  of  trees, 
and  leave  them  with  the  branches  on  them,  for  the 
benefit  of  our  four-footed  retainers.     On  seeing  so 


It 


M 


Deer-shooting. 


121 


grand  a  chance  of  bagging  two  deer  at  a  sliot,  Rob- 
ert ruslied  in  for  his  rifle  at  once,  but  before  he 
had  got  it  loaded,  although  he  flustered  through 
the  process  with  incredible  haste,  and  had  us  all 
running  to  bring  him  powder,  ball,  and  wadding, 
the  prey  had  scented  danger,  and  were  gone. 

We  had  quite  an  excitement  one  day  by  the  cry 
that  a  staij  was  svvimmino;  across  the  river.  On 
looking  up  the  stream,  there  he  was,  sure  enough, 
with  his  noble  horns  and  his  head  out  of  the  water, 
doing  his  best  to  reach  the  opposite  shore.  In  a 
few  minutes  we  saw  John  Courtenay  and  his  boys 
paddling  off  in  hot  haste,  in  their  canoe,  in  pursuit. 
Every  stroke  flashed  in  the  light,  and  the  little 
craft  skimmed  the  calm  water  like  an  arrow. 
They  were  soon  very  close  to  the  great  creature, 
which  flew  faster  than  ever,  and  then  a  bullet  from 
Courtenay's  rifle  ended  the  chase  in  a  moment. 
The  stag  was  inst'  atly  seized  to  prevent  its  sink- 
ing, and  drr^;^*  :  <~'ff  to  the  shore  by  a  rope  tied 
round  its  antlers. 

Some  pL'jpIe  are  cruel  enough  to  kill  deer  in  the 
spring,  whea  their  young  are  with  tLc.^i,  and  even 
to  kill  the  young  themselves,  though  they  are 
worth  very  little  svhen  got.  One  of  the  neighbors 
one  day  wounded  a  fawn  which  v^as  following  its 
mother,  and  as  usual  ran  \\x>  to  secure  and  kill  it. 
But  to  his  astonishment,  the  mateinal  affection  of 
the  doe  had  so  overcome  it  timidity,  that,  instead 
of  fleeing  the  moment  it  -^  car'.^  the  shot,  it  would 

11 


1 '  ? 


122 


Useless  Cruelty, 


I  Ml- 


''Hi 

:  i 

"  1 

|! 

.Jl; 

W  f 

■     ilfci 

not  leave  its  poor  bleeding  young  one,  but  turned 
on  him,  and  made  such  vigorous  rushes  towards 
him,  again  and  again,  that  it  was  only  by  making 
all  kinds  of  noise  he  could  frighten  her  far  enough 
back  to  let  him  get  hold  of  the  fawn  at  last.  I 
wish  that  instead  of  merely  ninning  at  him,  the  lov- 
ing-hearted creature  had  given  him  a  good  hard 
butt  with  her  head ;  it  would  have  served  him  right 
for  such  cruelty.  Taking  away  Hfe  is  only  Jnstiiia- 
ble,  I  think,  when  there  is  some  other  ".vl  than 
mere  amusement  in  view.  To  find  happin(  ?s  in 
destroying  that  of  other  hving  beings  is  a  very  un- 
worthy enjoyment,  when  one  comes  to  think  of  it. 
To  go  out,  as  I  have  seen  both  men  and  boys  do, 
to  shoot  the  sweet  little  singing  birds  in  the  hedges, 
or  the  lark  when  he  is  fluttering  down,  after  having 
filled  the  air  with  music,  or  the  slow-flying  seagulls, 
as  they  sail  heavily  near  the  shore,  can  only  give  u 
pleasure  so  long  as  those  who  indulge  in  it  do  not 
reflect  on  its  cruelty.  I  remember,  when  a  boy. 
being  often  very  much  struck  with  this,  but,  more 
especially,  once,  when  a  boy  shot  a  male  thrush,  f>s 
it  was  bringing  home  a  little  worm  for  its  young 
ones,  which  would  very  likely  die  when  their  father 
was  killed ;  and,  once,  when  a  man  shot  a  seagull, 
which  fell  far  out  on  the  water,  from  which  it 
would  often  try  in  vain  to  rise,  but  where  it  woui  ^ 
have  to  float,  hejpless  and  in  pain,  till  released  bv 
death. 

Continued  persecution,  by  'dvery  one,  at  all  sea- 


Useless  Cruelty, 


123 


ills, 
re  u 
not 
)oy, 
lore 


IT 


sons,  has  nearly  banished  the  deer  from  all  the  set- 
tled parts  of  Canada,  for  years  back.  There  are 
game  laws  now,  however,  fixing  a  time,  within 
which,  to  destroy  them  is.  punishable,  and  it  is  to 
be  hoped  they  may  do  some  good.  But  the  rifle  is 
of  use  only  for  amusement  in  all  the  older  districts, 
and  if  you  want  to  get  sport  like  that  of  old  times, 
you  must  go  to  the  frontier  townships,  where  every 
thing  is  yet  almost  in  a  state  of  nature. 

The  Indians  were  harder  on  every  kind  of  game, 
and  still  are  so,  than  even  the  white  settlers. 
They  have  long  ago  laid  aside  the  bow  and  arrow 
of  their  ancestors,  in  eveiy  part  of  Canada,  and 
availed  themselves  of  the  more  deadly  power  of 
firearms.  As  they  have  nothing  whatever  to  do, 
most  of  their  time,  and  as  the  flesh  of  deer  is,  at 
once,  food,  and  a  means  of  getting  other  things,  by 
bartering  it  for  them,  and  as  it  suits  their  natural 
taste,  they  used  to  be,  and  still  are,  hunters  by  pro- 
tession.  One  Indian  and  his  son,  who  had  built 
their  wigwam  on  our  lot,  in  the  first  years  of  our 
settlement,  killed  in  one  winter,  in  about  three 
weeks,  no  fewer  than  forty  deer,  but  they  spoiled 
every  thing  for  the  rest  of  the  season,  as  those  that 
escaped  them  became  so  terrified  that  they  fled  to 
some  other  part. 

The  species  of  deer  common  in  Canada  is  the 
Virginian,  and,  though  not  so  large  as  some  others, 
their  long,  open  ears,  and  graceful  tails — longer 
than  those  of  some  other  kinds,  and  inclining  to  be 


Ijlpf*' 

■^^ 

1:. 


Si] 

r 


'jifii 


f,    ., 

1 

\l 

11 

1  ;!' 

IlL 

Ma 

124 


Shedding  of  the  Stages  Horns. 


bushy  —  give  them  a  very  attractive  appearance. 
The  most  curious  thing  about  them,  as  about  other 
deer,  was  tlie  growth  and  casting  of  the  stags'  horns. 
It  is  not  till  the  spring  of  the  second  year  that  the 
first  ])air  begin  to  make  their  appearance,  the  first 
siiiii  of  their  cominjj  bein<i  a  swelling  of  the  skin 
the  spots  from  which  they  are  to  rise.     The 


ov 


a)iti>ii-  ire  now  budding ;  fo:,.'  on  these  spots  are 
the  footo.ulks  from  which  they  are  to  spring,  and 
the  arteries  are  beginning  to  deposit  on  them, 
particle  by  particle,  with  great  rapidity,  the  bony 
matter  of  which  the  horns  are  composed.  As  the 
antlers  grow,  the  skin  still  stretches  over  them,  and 
continues  to  do  so,  till  they  have  reached  their  full 
size,  and  have  become  quite  hard  and  solid,  and 
forms  a  beautiful  velvet  covering,  which  is,  in  reality, 
underneath,  nothing  but  a  great  tissue  of  blood- 
vessels for  supplying  the  necessary  circulation. 
The  arteries  which  run  up  from  the  head,  through 
it,  are,  meanwliile,  so  large,  that  they  make  furrows 
on  the  soft  horns  underneath ;  and  it  is  these  that 
leave  the  deeper  marks  on  the  horns  when  hard. 
When  the  antlers  are  full-grown,  they  look  very 
curious  while  the  velvet  is  still  over  them,  and  are 
so  tender  that  the  deer  can,  as  yet,  make  no  use  of 
them.  It  must  therefore  be  removed,  but  not  too 
suddenly,  lest  the  quantity  of  blood  flowing  through 
such  an  extent  of  skin  should  be  turned  to  the 
brain  or  some  internal  organ,  and  death  be  the 
result.     Danger  is  prevented,  and  the  end  at  the 


Shedding  of  the  Stag's  Horns. 


125 


; 


same  time  accomplished,  by  a  rougli  ring  of  bone 

being  now  deposited  round  the  base  of  the  horns 

where  they  join  the  footstalk,  notches  being  left  in 

it,  through  which  the  arteries  still  pass.     Gradual 

ly,  however,  these  openings  are  contracted  by  fresh 

bone  being  formed  round  their  edges,  till  at  length 

the  arteries  are  compressed  as  by  a  ligature,  and 

the   circulation    effectually   stopped.     The   velvet 

now  dies,  for  want  of  the  vital  fluid,  and  peels  off, 

the  deer  helping  to  get  it  off  by  rubbing  its  horns 

against  the  trees.     It  was  by  noticing  this  process 

of  stopping  the  arteries  in  the  antlers  of  stags,  that 

John  Hunter,  the  great  anatomist,  first  conceived 

the  plan  of  reducing  the  great  swellings  of  the 

arteries  in  human  beings  which  are  called  aneurisms, 

by  tying  them  up  —  a  mode  which,  in  certain  cases, 

is  found  quite  effectual.     The  highest  thoughts  of 

genius  are  thus  frequently  only  new  applications  of 

principles  and  modes  of  operation  which  God  has 

established  in  the  humblest  orders  of  nature,  from 

the  beginning  of  the  world.     Indeed  they  are  al 

ways  so,  for  we  cannot  create  any  absolutely  new 

conception,  but  must  be  contented  to  read  and  apply 

wisely  the  teachings  furnished  by  all  things  around 

us.     When  the  velvet  is  gone,  the  horns  are,  at 

last,   perfect,    and   the  stag  bears  them   proudly, 

and  uses  them  fiercely  in  his  battles  with  his  rivals. 

But  the  cutting  off  the  arteries  makes  them  no 

longer  a  part  of  the  general  system  of  the  animal. 

They  are,  thenceforth,  only  held  on  to  the  foot- 

11* 


Itl 


1  ;;■;!!!] 


Shedding  of  the  Stages  Horns. 


stalks  by  their  having  grown  from  them,  and, 
hence,  each  spring,  when  a  new  pair  begin  to  swell 
up  from  beneath,  the  old  ones  are  pushed  off  and 
fall  away,  to  make  room  for  others.  It  is  curious 
to  think  that  such  great  things  as  full-grown  stags' 
horns  drop  off  and  are  renewed  every  year ;  but  so 
it  is.  Bemnning  with  the  single  horn  of  the  first 
season,  they  grow  so  much  larger  each  season  till 
th*^  seventh,  when  they  reach  their  greatest  size. 
j3at,  after  all,  is  it  any  more  wonderful  that  their 
horns  should  grow  once  a  year,  than  that  our  hair 
should  grow  all  the  time?  And  is  a  horn  any 
thing  more  than  hair  stuck  together  ? 


was  comino 

c 


Wolves. 


127 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Wolves.  —  My  adventure  with  a  bear.  —  Courtenay's  cow  and  the 
wolves.  —  A  fright  in  the  woods  by  night.  —  The  river  freezes.  — 
Our  winter  fires.  —  Cold,  cold,  cold! — A  winter's  journey. — 
Sleighing.  —  Winter  inufflings.  — Accidents  through  intense  cold. 

THE  wolves  used  to  favor  us  by  howling  at 
nights,  close  at  hand,  till  the  sound  made  one 
miserable.  We  had  five  sheep  destroyed  in  the 
barn-yard  on  one  of  these  occasions,  nothing  being 
done  to  them  beyond  tearing  the  throats  open  and 
drinking  the  blood.  Perhaps  the  wolves  had  been 
disturbed  at  their  feast.  I  never  heard  of  any  one 
being  killed  by  them,  but  they  sometimes  put  be- 
nighted travellers  in  danger.  One  night,  Henry 
was  coming  home  from  a  neighbor's,  in  the  bright 
moonlight,  and  had  almost  reached  our  clearing, 
when,  to  his  horror,  he  heard  the  cry  of  some 
wolves  behind  him,  and,  feehng  sure  they  wished 
to  make  their  supper  at  his  expense,  he  made  off, 
with  the  fastest  heels  he  could,  to  a  tree  that  stood 
by  itself,  and  was  easily  chmbed.  Into  this  he  got 
just  in  time  to  save  himself,  for  the  wolves  were 
already  at  the  foot  of  it,  when  he  had  made  good 
his  seat  across  a  bough.  The  night  was  fearfully 
cold,  and  he  must  soon  have  frozen  to  death  had 


.^^ 


\i^ 


r--   »,{ 


^^ 


'!  « 


rH' 


■vf-i 


«.,    ■-     V.J,. 


»m 


'1'' 

'  in 


128 


Wolves. 


i\ 


'{Bh 


U       ':% 


jy; 

r; . 

1 

V 

1                                                         ■ 

^\ 


lit'  not,  pi'ovi(k'ntially,  been  so  near  the  house. 
As  it  was,  liis  loud  wliistling  for  the  clogs,  and  liis 
shouts,  were,  fortunatt'ly,  lieard,  and  some  of  us 
sallyinu;  out,  lie  was  delivered  from  liis  perilous 
position.  \\^)l\es  are  much  scarcer  now,  however, 
1  am  tliMiikf'ul  to  say,  owing  in  part,  no  doubt,  to 
a  leward  of  two  sovereigns  wliich  is  offered  by 
(government  for  every  head  brought  in.  In  the 
regions  north  of  C'anada  they  seem  to  abound,  and 
even  on  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Ocean  they  are 
found  in  great  numbers.  Sir  John  Franklin,  in 
one  of  his  earlier  journeys,  often  came  upon  the 
remains  of  deer  which  had  been  hemmed  in  by 
them  and  di'iven  over  precipices.  "  Whilst  the 
deer  are  quietly  grazing,"  says  he  "  the  wolves 
assemble  in  great  numbers,  and,  forming  a  deep 
crescent,  creep  slowly  towards  the  herd,  so  as  not 
to  alarm  them  much  at  first ;  but  when  they  per- 
ceive that  they  have  fairly  hemmed  in  the  unsus- 
pecting creatures,  and  cut  off  their  retreat  across  the 
plain,  they  move  more  quickly,  and  with  hideous 
yells  terrify  their  prey,  and  urge  them  to  flight  by 
the  only  open  way,  which  is  toward  the  precipice, 
appearing  to  know  that  when  the  herd  is  at  full 
speed  it  is  easily  driven  over  the  cliffs,  the  rear- 
most urging  on  those  that  are  before.  The  wolves 
then  descend  at  leisure  and  feed  on  the  mangled 
carcasses." 

There  were  some  bears  in  the  woods,  but  they 
did  not  trouble  us.    My  sister  Margaret  and  I  were 


-m 


Courtenai/'s   Cow  and  the  Wolves.         129 

'viie  only  two  of  our  family  who  had  an  adventure 
with  one,  and  that  ended  in  a  fright.  It  was  in  tlie 
summer  time,  and  we  had  strolled  out  into  the 
woods  to  amuse  ourselves  with  picking  the  wild 
berries,  and  gathering  flowers.  I  had  climbed  to 
the  top  of  the  upturned  root  of  a  tree,  the  earth  on 
which  was  tliick  with  fruit,  and  my  sister  was  at  a 
short  distance  behind.  Having  just  got  up,  I 
chanced  to  turn  round  and  look  down,  when,  lo ! 
there  stood  a  bear,  busy  at  the  raspberries,  which  he 
seemed  to  like  as  much  as  we  did.  You  may  be 
certain  that  the  first  sight  of  it  was  enough.  I 
sprang  down  in  an  instant,  and,  shouting  to  my 
sister  that  there  was  a  bear  behind  the  tree,  we 
both  made  oft'  homewards  with  a  speed  which  aston- 
ished even  ourselves.  The  poor  brute  never  ofi^ered 
to  disturb  us,  though  he  might  have  made  a  meal 
of  either  of  us  had  he  chosen,  for  I'  don't  think  we 
could  have  run  had  we  seen  him  really  after  us. 

I  had  forgotten  a  story  about  the  wolves,  which 
happened  a  year  or  two  after  our  first  settling. 
John  Courtenay  had  a  cow  which  fell  sick,  and  was 
lying  in  the  field,  after  night,  in  the  winter  time, 
very  likely  without  any  one  missino-  it,  or,  if  they 
missed  it,  without  their  knowing  where  to  find  it  in 
the  dark.  The  wolves,  however,  did  not  overlook 
it,  for,  next  morning,  poor  Cowslip  was  found  killed 
by  them,  and  its  carcass  having  been  left,  the  family 
not  liking  to  use  it  under  the  circumstances,  they 
held  high  carnival  over  it,  night  after  night,  till  the 


i : 


r 
Nilllii  ' 'f 


'i\  , 


If 

i 

» 

.1 

1 

If 

i  1 

i  j 

;  1 

130  -A  Fright  in  the  Woods  by  Night, 

bones  were    picked  clean.     This   happened   quite 
close  to  the  house. 

But  if  there  were  not  many  bears  and  wolves  to 
be  seen,  we  were  not  the  less  afraid  they  would 
pounce  on  us,  when,  by  any  chance,  We  should  hap- 
j)en  to  be  coining  through  the  woods  after  dark.  I 
remember  a  young  friend  and  myself  being  half- 
triglitened  in  this  way  one  summer  evening,  when 
there  chanced  to  be  no  moon,  and  we  had  to  walk 
home,  tln'ough  the  great  gloomy  forest,  when  it  was 
pitch  dark.  Before  starting,  we  were  furnished 
witli  a  niunber  of  long  slips  of  the  bark  of  the  hicko- 
ry-tree, which  is  very  inflammable,  and,  having* 
each  lighted  one,  we  sallied  out  on  our  journey.  I 
sliall  never  forget  the  wild  look  of  every  thing  in  the 
flickering  light,  the  circle  of  darkness  closing  in 
round  us  at  a  very  short  distance.  But  on  we  went, 
along  the  winding  path,  hither  and  thither,  among 
the  trees.  Suddenly  an  unearthly  sound  broke 
from  one  side,  a  sort  of  screech,  which  was  repeated 
again  and  again.  We  took  it  for  granted  some 
bear  and  her  young  ones  were  at  hand,  but  where, 
it  seemed  impossible  for  us  to  discover.  How  could 
we  run,  in  such  darkness,  over  such  a  path,  with 
lights  to  carry  ?  Both  of  us  stood  still  to  listen. 
Again  came  the  "  hoo,  hoo,  hoo  ;  "  and  I  assure 
you  it  sounded  very  loud  in  the  still  forest.  But, 
though  terrible  to  me,  I  noticed  that,  when  distinctly 
caught,  it  ceased  to  alarm  my  comrade.  '*  It's  only 
a  great  owl  up  in  the  the  trees  there  —  what's  the 


The  River  Freezes, 


131 


use  of  being  frightened  ?  "  he  broke  out ;  yet  he 
had  been  as  much  so  as  myself,  the  moment  before. 
However,  we  now  made  up  for  our  panic  by  a 
hearty  laugh,  and  went  on  in  quietness  to  the  house. 
Toward  the  end  of  December  the  river  froze. 
This  was,  in  great  part,  caused  by  large  blocks  of 
ice  floating  down  from  Lake  Superior,  and  getting 
caught  on  the  banks,  as  they  went  past,  by  the  ice 
already  formed  there.  For  one  to  touch  another, 
was  to  make  them  adhere  for  the  rest  of  the  winter, 
and,  thus,  in  a  very  short  time  after  it  had  begun, 
the  whole  surface  was  as  solid  as  a  stone.  We  had 
now  to  cut  a  hole  every  morning,  with  the  axe, 
through  the  ice,  to  let  the  cattle  drink,  and  to  get 
water  for  the  house,  and  cold  work  it  was.  The 
cattle  came  do\vn  themselves,  but  when,  a  year  or 
two  afterwards,  we  got  horses,  they  had  to  be  led 
twice  a  day.  It  was  very  often  my  task  to  take 
them.  Riding  was  out  of  the  question,  from  the 
steepness  of  the  bank,  and  the  way  in  which  their 
feet  balled  with  the  snow,  so  I  used  to  sally  out  for 
them  in  a  thick  greatcoat,  with  the  eai-s  o^ 
carefully  tied  down,  to  prevent  frostbit.  , 
•  Worsted  cravat  round  my  neck,  and  thick  mitts  on 
my  hands.  The  floor  of  the  stable  was,  invariably, 
a  sheet  of  ice,  and  over  this  I  had  to  get  out  the  two 
horses,  letting  the  one  out  over  the  icy  slope  at  the 
door,  and  then  holding  the  halter  till  the  second  one 
had  slid  past  me,  when,  having  closed  the  door,  with 
hands  like  the  snow,  from  having  had  to  loosen  the 


my  cap 
a  thick 


m 


i 

^i "  t 

■i'tti 

1 

9 

i 

•r 

li't 

1 

^ 

1 

(1 

i 


:ifi. 


M' 


132 


Our  Winter  Fires, 


halters,  I  wcMit  down  with  them.  Wlion  tlie  wind 
wjis  from  the  north  they  were  white  in  a  *"n  or 
two,  witii  tlieir  breath  frozen  on  tlieir  elit  and 
sides,  the  cold  niakino;  it  hke  smoke  as  it  left  their 
nostrils.  Of  course  the//  were  in  no  hurrvi  inul 
would  put  their  tails  to  the  wind  and  drink  a 
minute,  and  then  lift  uj)  their  heads  and  look  round 
them  at  their  leisure,  as  if  it  were  June.  By  the 
time  thev  were  done,  their  mouths  and  chins  were 
often  coated  with  ice,  lonjr  icicles  hanjxini!;  from  the 
hair  all  round.  Riiiht  grh'd  was  I  when  at  last  I  had 
them  fairly  back  a^ain,  and  had  knocked  cit  the 
balls  of  snow  Irom  their  shoes,  to  let  tht  tand 
firm. 

The  cold  did  not  last  all  the  time,  else  we  could 
never  have  endured  it.  There  would  be  two  or 
three  days  of  hard  frost,  and  then  it  would  come 
milder  for  two  or  three  more ;  but  the  mildest,  ex- 
cept when  it  was  a  thaw,  in  January,  were  very 
nmch  colder  than  any  that  are  common  in  Eni:- 
land,  and  as  to  the  coldest,  what  shall  I  say  they 
were  like?  The  sky  was  as  blight  and  clear  as 
can  be  imagined,  the  snow  crackled  under  foot,  and 
the  wind,  when  there  was  any,  cut  the  skin  like  a 
razor.  Indoors,  the  fire  in  the  kitchen  was  enouoh 
to  heat  a  large  hall  in  a  more  temperate  climate. 
It  was  never  allowed  to  go  out,  the  last  thing  at 
night  being  to  roll  a  huge  back-log,  as  they  called 
it,  into  the  fireplace,  with  handspikes,  two  of  us 
sometimes  having  to  help  to  get  it  into  its  place. 


Cold^  cold,  cold! 


133 


It  was  simply  a  cut  of  a  tree,  about  four  fuel  I«;Mg, 
and  of  various  thicknesses.  Tlie  two  doin-irous 
liaving  been  diawn  out,  and  the  embers  heaped 
close  to  this  giant,  a  nund)er  of  thinner  logs,  whole 
and  in  parts,  were  then  laid  above  them,  and  the 
fire  was  *'  gathered  "  for  the  night.  By  day,  what 
with  another  huge  back-log  to  replace  the  one 
burned  up  in  the  niirht,  and  a  ijreat  bank  of  other 
smaller  ""sticks"  in  front  and  over  it,  I  tliink  there 
was  often  half  a  cart-load  blazino;  at  a  time.  In 
fact,  the  only  measure  of  tlie  quantity  was  the  size 
of  the  huge  chimney,  for  the  wood  cost  nothing  ex- 
cept the  trouble  of  cutting  and  bringing  it  to  the 
house.  It  was  ijrand  t(.)  sit  at  niij;lit  before  the  roar- 
ing  mountain  of  fire  and  forget  the  cold  outside ; 
but  it  was  a  friiihtful  tliinji  to  dress  in  the  mornino;, 
in  the  bitter  cold  of  the  bedrooms,  with  the  win- 
dows thick  with  frost,  and  the  water  frozen  solid  at 
your  side.  If  you  touched  a  tumbler  of  water  with 
your  toothbrush  it  would  often  freeze  in  a  moment, 
and  the  water  in  the  basin  sometimes  froze  round 
tlie  edo;es  while  we  were  washino;.  The  tears  would 
come  out  of  our  eyes,  and  freeze  on  our  cheeks  as 
they  rolled  down.  The  towels  were  regularly 
frozen  like  a  board,  if  they  had  been  at  all  damj). 
Water,  brought  in  over  night  in  buckets,  and  put 
as  close  to  the  fire  as  possible,  had  to  be  broken 
with  an  axe  in  the  mornincr.  The  bread,  for  lon<j 
after  we  w^ent  to  the  river,  till  we  got  a  new  house, 
was  like  a  stone  for  hardness,  and  sparkled  with 


'Xi 


'Hi 


i.; 


ii 
1 

r 
1 

1 

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i 

i 

II;.: 

!: ! 
'  ,;4.,L.. 

134 


(7o?(^,  cold,  cold! 


the  ice  in  it.  The  milk  froze  on  tne  way  from  the 
barn  to  the  house,  and  even  while  they  were  milk- 
ing. If  you  went  out,  your  eyelashes  froze 
together  every  moment  with  your  breath  on  them, 
and  my  brothers'  whiskers  were  always  white  with 
frozen  breath  when  they  came  in.  Beef  and 
every  thing  of  the  kind  were  frozen  solid  for  months 
together,  and,  when  a  piece  was  wanted,  it  had  to 
be  sawn  off  and  put  in  cold  water  overnight  to 
thaw  it,  or  hung  up  in  the  house.  I  have  known 
beef  that  had  been  on  for  hours  taken  out  almost 
raw,  from  not  having  been  thawed  beforehand. 
One  of  the  coldest  nights  I  remember  happened 
once  when  I  was  from  home.  I  was  to  sleep  at 
the  house  of  a  magistrate  in  the  village,  and  had 
gone  with  a  minister  who  was  travelling  for  tlie 
British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  to  attend  a  meet- 
ing he  had  appointed.  It  was  held  in  a  wooden 
school-house,  with  three  windows  on  each  side,  and 
a  single  story  high.  There  was  a  stove  at  the  end 
nearest  the  door,  which  opened  into  the  room ;  the 
pipe  of  it  was  carried  up  to  near  the  roof,  and  then 
led  along  the  room  to  a  chimney  at  the  opposite 
end.  The  audience  consisted  of  seven  or  eight 
men  and  boys,  though  the  night  was  magnificent, 
the  stars  hanging  from  the  dark  blue  like  sparkling 
globes  of  light.  The  cold,  in  fact,  was  so  intense 
that  nobody  would  venture  out.  When  I  got  in,  I 
found  the  congregation  huddled  round  the  stove, 
which  one  of  them,  seated  in  front  of  it,  was  assidu- 


Cold^  cold,  cold! 


185 


ously  stuffing  with  vrood,  as  often  as  the  smallest 
chance  offered  of  his  being  able  to  add  to  its  contents. 
The  stove  itself  was  as  red  as  the  fire  inside  of  it, 
and  the  pipe,  for  move  than  a  yard  up,  was  the 
same;  but  our  backs  were  wretchedly  cold,  not- 
withstanding,  though  we  sat  within  a  few  inches  of 
the  glowing  iron.  As  to  the  windows,  the  rime  on 
tliem  never  thought  of  melting,  but  lay  thick  and 
hard  as  ever.  How  the  unfortunate  speaker  bore 
his  place  at  the  master's  desk  at  the  far  end  I  know 
not.  He  had  only  one  arm,  indeed,  but  the  hand 
of  the  other  was  kept  deeply  bedded  in  his  pocket 
all  the  time.  We  were  both  to  sleep  at  the  same 
house,  and  therefore  returned  together,  and  after 
supper  were  shown  into  a  double-bedded  room  with 
a  painted  floor,  and  a  great  stove  in  the  middle. 
A  delightful  roar  up  the  pipe  promised  comfort  for 
the  night,  but  alas !  in  a  few  minutes  it  died  away, 
the  fire  having  been  made  of  chips  instead  of  sub- 
stantial billets.  Next  morning,  on  waking,  looking 
over  to  Mr.  Thompson,  I  expressed  a  hope  that  he 
had  rested  well  through  the  night. 

"  Rested !  "  said  he ;  "  I  thawed  a  piece  my  own 
size  last  night  when  I  first  got  in,  and  have  lain  in 
it  all  night  as  if  it  had  been  my  coffin.  I  daren't 
put  out  my  leg  or  my  hand ;  it  was  hke  ice  up  to 
my  body." 

One  winter  I  had  a  dreadful  journey  of  about 
two  hundred  miles.  We  started  in  the  stage, 
which  was  an  open  rough  wagon,  at  seven  o'clock 


ii 


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136 


A  Winter* s  Journey. 


at  night,  the  roads  not  as  yet  permitting  sleighs. 
It  was  in  the  first  week  of  January.  I  had  on  two 
greatcoats,  but.tliere  were  no  buffalo  robes  to  lay 
over  the  knees,  though  the  stage  should  have  pro- 
vided them.  All  that  dreadful  dr  ^-  night  I  had 
to  sit  there,  while  the  horses  stumbiod  on  at  a  walk, 
and  the  wagon  bumped  on  the  frozen  clods  most 
dreadfully.  The  second  day's  ride  was  much  better, 
that  part  of  the  road  being  smoother ;  but  the  next 
day  and  night  —  what  shall  I  say  of  them  ?  I  be- 
gan in  a  covered  sleigh,  some  time  in  the  forenoon, 
the  distance  being  seventy  miles.  There  was  an- 
other person  in  it  besides  myself.  Off  we  started 
at  a  good  pace,  but  such  was  the  roughness  of  the 
road,  up  one  wave  of  frozen  earth  and  snow,  and 
down  another,  that  both  of  us  were  thoroughly  sea- 
sick in  u  short  time.  Each  took  possession  of  a 
window,  and  getting  the  head  in  again  was  out  of 
the  question  till  the  sickness  fairly  spent  itself.  Mean- 
while, there  was  a  large  high  wooden  box  in  the 
sleigh  between  us,  and  we  had  to  keep  a  hand 
a-piece  on  it,  lest  it  should  take  us  at  unawares,  and 
make  a  descent  on  our  legs  or  backs.  After  a  time, 
the  covered  sleigh  was  exchanged  for  an  open  one 
—  a  great  heaw  farmer's  affair,  a  mere  loner  box 
upon  runners.  To  add  to  our  troubles,  they  put  a 
great  black  horse,  as  one  of  the  two  to  draw  us, 
which  was  so  wild  and  fierce  that  I  have  always 
thought  it  must  have  been  mad.  It  was  now  dark 
night,  and  there  were  again  no  buffalo  robes,  and 


SleigJi'mg, 


137 


the  thermometer  far  below  zero.  How  we  stood 
it  I  know  not.  My  feet  were  like  ice,  and  inces- 
sant motion  of  both  them  and  my  arms  seemed  all 
tliat  could  keep  me  from  freezing.  But  away  the 
black  wretch  tore,  the  driver  pulling  him  back  as 
he  could,  but  in  vain.  At  last,  at  two  or  three  in 
the  morning,  bang  went  the  sleigh  against  some 
stump,  or  huge  lump  of  frozen  mud,  and  —  broke 
down.  "  You'll  have  to  get  out,  gentlemen,"  said 
the  driver.  "  You  had  better  walk  on  to  the  first 
house,  and  I'll  go  before  you  and  borrow  a  sleigh." 
Here  then  we  were,  turned  out  to  stumble  over  a 
chaos  of  holes  and  hillocks  for  nearly  two  miles,  in 
darkness,  and  in  such  a  night !  I  don't  know  how 
long  we  were,  but  we  reached  a  wayside  inn  at  last, 
where  the  driver  borrowed  what  he  could  get  to 
carry  us  and  the  mails  to  the  journey's  end,  and 
having  gone  back  for  the  bags  and  his  parcels,  and 
that  horrid  box,  to  where  he  had  left  the  broken 
vehicle  at  the  roadside,  he  reappeared  after  a  time, 
and  we  finished  our  journey,  tired  and  cold  enough, 
a  little  before  daylight. 

Tlie  amount  of  suffering  from  the  cold,  seldom, 
liowcver,  reaches  any  painful  extent ;  indeed,  you 
will  hear  people  say,  on  every  hand,  that  they  pos- 
itively like  it,  except  when  it  is  stormy,  or  when 
the  wind  blows  very  keenly.  Nor  does  it  hinder 
work  of  any  kind,  where  there  is  exercise  enough. 
You  may  see  men  chopping  in  the  forest  on  tei-ri- 

bly  cold  days,  with  their  jackets  off,  the  swinging 

12* 


Pi 


h  '    ..! 


U  ."^ 


!i,-'m 

j^^ing 

111 

{■  'I; 


&j    J' 


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ikjm 


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■; 

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138 


TFi'/i^er  Muffling s. 


of  the  arms  making  them  disagreeably  hot  in  spite 
of  the  weather.  Sleighing  is,  moreover,  the  great 
winter  amusement  of  the  Canadian,  who  seems 
never  so  pleased  as  when  driving  fast  in  a  "  cutter,*' 
with  the  jingling  bells  on  the  horse's  neck  making 
music  as  it  goes.  But,  for  my  part,  I  could  never 
bear  sitting  with  my  face  to  the  wind,  while  I  was 
dragged  through  it  at  the  rate  of  ten  miles  an  hour, 
with  the  thermometer  below  zero.  All  the  muf- 
flings  you  can  put  on  won't  protect  the  cheeks  or 
the  eyes,  and  the  hands  get  intohirably  cold  hold- 
ing the  reins.  Indeed,  the  precautions  taken  by 
those  who  have  much  travelling  about  in  winter, 
show  that,  to  those  less  fully  prepared,  there  must  be 
suffering  as  well  as  enjoyment.  Our  doctor's  outfit 
for  his  winter  practice  used  to  amuse  me.  He  had, 
first,  a  huge  otter  fur  cap,  with  ears ;  next,  over  his 
greatcoat,  the  skin  of  a  buffalo  made  into  a  coat, 
with  the  hairy  side  out,  and  reaching  to  his  feet ;  his 
'eet  were  cased  in  moccasins,  which  came  over  his 
Doots  and  tied  round  the  ankles  j  a  pair  of  great 
hose  reached  up  his  thighs ;  his  hands  were  multtod 
in  huge  fur  gauntlets  reaching  halfway  to  his  elbow ; 
and  when  he  took  his  seat  in  the  sleio-h  with  all  his 
wrapping,  he  sat  down  on  a  buflalo-skin  spread  over 
the  seat,  and  stretching  down  over  the  bottom,  while 
another  was  tucked  in  over  him,  his  feet  resting  on 
the  lower  edge  of  it  to  keep  out  every  breath  of  air  ; 
and,  in  addition,  he  always  had  hot  bricks  put  inside 
on  starting,  and  re-heated  them  every  short  while. 


Accidents  through  Intense  Cold,  139 


led 
hv; 

liis 
Iver 
l\ile 
on 
lilr ; 

liile. 


No  wonder  he  used  to  say  that  he  felt  quite  comfort- 
able.    He  had  clothes  and  furs  enough  on  him  for 
Greenland.     In  spite  of  all  this,  however,  I  remem- 
ber his  driving  back^  home,  in  great  haste  one  day, 
with  his  wife  and  child,  and  found  that  the  face  of  the 
infant  had  been  partially  frozen  in  a  ride  of  four  or 
five  miles.     Cases  of  death  from  the  excessive  cold 
are  not  infrequent.     A  drunken  man,  falling  on  the 
road,  is  certain  to  die  if  not  speedily  found.     A  poor 
Indian  was  frozen  to  death  on  the  river  in  this  way 
a  short  time  after  we  came.     But  even  the  most 
sober  people  are  sometimes  destroyed  by  the  awfiil 
intensity  of  the  cold.     I  knew  a  young  widow  who 
had  lost  her  husband  in  this  way.     He  had  gone  to 
town  in  his  sleigh,  one  Christmas,  on  business,  and 
was  returning,  when  he  felt  very  cold,  and  turned 
aside  to  heat  himself  at  a  farm-house.     Poor  fellow  I 
he  was  already  so  frozen  that  he  died  shortly  after 
coming  to  the  fire.     This  last  winter,  a  farmer  and 
his  daughter  were  driving  in  from  the  country  to 
Toronto,  and,  naturally  enough,  said  little  to  each 
other,  not  caring  to  expose  their  faces ;  but  when 
they  had  reached  the  city  and  should  have  alighted, 
to  her  horror  the  daughter  found  that  her  father  was 
stone  dead,  frozen  at   her  side   by  the  way.     At 
Christmas  there  are  a  great  many  shooting-matches, 
at  which  whoever  kills  most  pigeons,  let  loose  from 
a  trap,  at  a  certain  distance,  wins  a  turkey.     I  was 
one  day  riding  past  one  of  these,  and  noticed  a  group 
of  spectators  standing  round,  but  thought  no  more 


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ill; 


1.  '; 


140  Accidents  through  Intense  Cold, 

of  it,  till,  next  morning,  I  learned  that,  when  the 
match  was  done  and  the  people  dispersed,  a  boy  was 
seen  who  continued  to  stand  still  on  the  vacant 
ground,  and,  on  going  up  to  him,  it  was  found  that 
he  had  been  frozen  stiff,  and  was  stone  dead.  A 
minister  once  told  me  that  he  had  been  benighted 
on  a  lonely  road  in  the  depth  of  the  winter  and  could 
get  no  further,  and,  for  a  time,  hardly  knew  what 
to  do.  At  last  he  resolved  to  take  out  his  horse, 
and,  after  tying  its  'wo  fore  legs  together,  let  it 
seek  what  it  could  for  itself  till  morning,  ^while  he 
himself  commenced  walking  round  a  great  tree  that 
was  near,  and  continued  doing  so,  without  resting, 
till  the  next  morning.  Had  he  sat  down,  he  would 
have  fallen  asleep  ;  and  if  he  had  slept,  he  would 
certainly  have  died.  My  brother  Henry,  who,  after 
a  time,  turned  to  the  study  of  medicine,  and  has 
risen  to  be  a  professor  in  one  of  the  colleges,  took 
me,  one  day,  to  the  hospital,  with  him,  and,  turn- 
ing into  one  of  the  wards,  walked  up  to  the  bed 
of  a  young  man.  Lifting  up  the  bottom  of  the 
clothes,  he  told  me  to  look  ;  and,  —  what  a  sight ! 
both  the  feet  had  been  frozen  off  at  the  ankle,  and 
the  red  stumps  were  slowly  healing.  A  poor  nian 
called,  once,  begging,  whose  fingers  were  all  gone. 
He  had  walked  some  miles  without  gloves,  and  had 
known  nothing  about  how  to  manage  frozen  limbs ; 
nis  fingers  had  frozen,  had  been  neglected,  and  had 
mortified,  till  at  last  such  as  did  not  drop  off  weii 
pulled  out,  he  told  me,  with  pincers,  being  utterly 


I'  \ 


Accidents  through  Intense  Cold. 


141 


rotten  at  the  joints.  I  know  a  young  man,  a  law 
student,  whose  fino;ers  are  mere  bone  and  skin  :  he 
was  snow-balHng,  and  paid  the  penalty  in  the  virtual 
destruction  of  his  hands.  A  curious  case  happened 
some  years  ago,  resulting  in  tlie  recovery  of  two 
thousand  pounds  of  damages  from  the  mail  company. 
The  stage  from  Montreal,  westward,  broke  through 
an  airhole  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  when  driving  over 
the  ice,  and  all  the  passengers  were  immersed  in  the 
river,  one  of  them  getting  both  his  hands  so  frozen 
that  he  lost  them  entirely.  They  were  both  taken 
off  at  the  wrists.  The  money  was  a  poor  consola- 
tion for  such  a  calamity.  I  have  known  of  a  gen- 
tleman losing  both  hands  by  taking  off  his  fur 
gloves  to  get  better  control  over  a  runaway  horse. 
He  got  it  stopped,  but  his  hands  were  lost  in  the 
doing  it. 

The  ice  of  the  river  used  to  give  us  abundant 
room  for  skating,  where  it  was  smooth  enough. 
Near  the  towns  every  one.  skates,  even  the  ladies, 
of  late  years,  doing  their  best  at  it.  But  the  ice, 
with  us,  was  often  too  rough  for  this  graceful  and 
healthy  exercise,  so  that  it  was  less  practised  than 
it  otherwise  would  have  been. 


1  ^' 


r'''i 


'''in 


142 


Tlie  Aurora  Borealis. 


CHAPTER    VIII 


v% 


t 


M      ^'|1 


The  aurora  borealis.  —  "  Jumpers."  —  Squaring  timber.  —  Rafts.  — 
Camping  out.  —  A  public  meeting. — Winter  fashions.  —  My  toe 
frozen. — A  long  winter's  walk.  —  Hospitality.  —  Nearly  lost  in 
the  woods. 


T 


HE  grandeur  of  the  aurora  borealis,  in  the  cold 
weather,  particularly  struck  us.  At  times  the 
whole  heavens  would  be  irradiated  by  it  —  shafts 
of  light  stretching  from  every  side  to  the  zenith,  or 
clouds  of  brightness,  of  the  softest  rose,  shooting, 
from  every  point  of  the  horizon,  high  overhead. 
It  was  like  the  Hindoo  legend  of  Indra's  palace, 
which  Southey  d?scribes  so  beautifully : 

"  Even  we  on  earth  at  intervals  descry 

Gleams  of  the  glory,  streaky  of  flowing  light, 
Openings  of  Heaven,  and  streams  that  flash  at  night, 
In  fitful  splendor,  through  the  northern  sky." 

Curse  of  Kehama,  vii.  72. 

The  fondness  of  almost  every  one  for  sleigh-rid- 
ing was  ludicrously  shown  in  the  contrivances  in- 
vented in  some  cases  to  get  the  enjoyment  of  the 
luxury.  The  richer  settlers,  of  course,  had  very 
comfortable  vehicles,  with  nice  light  runners,  and 
abundance  of  skins  of  various  kinds,  to  adorn  them, 


"  Jkmj9er«." 


143 


and  make  them  warm ;  but  every  one  was  not  so 
fortunate,  and  yet  all  were  determined  that  ride 
they  would.  "Have  you  anything  to  go  in?" 
I  have  heard  asked,  once  and  again,  with  the  an- 
swer, "  No,  but  I  guess  we  can  lig  up  a  jumper 
pretty  soon."  This  "jumper,"  when  it  made  its 
appearance,  if  it  were  of  the  most  primitive  type, 
consisted  simply  of  two  long. poles,  with  the  bark 
on  them,  the  one  end  to  drag  on  the  ground,  and 
the  other  to  serve  for  shafts  for  the  horse  ;  a  cross- 
bar here  and  there  behind,  let  into  them  through 
auger-holes,  serving  to  keep  them  together.'  An 
old  box,  fixed  on  roughly  above,  served  for  a  body 
to  the  carriage ;  and,  then,  off  they  went,  scraping 
along  the  snow  in  a  wonderful  way.  Instead  of 
buffalo-robes,  if  they  had  none,  a  colored  bed-quilt, 
wrapped  round  them,  served  to  keep  them  warm. 
An  old  wood-sleigh,  with  a  box  on  it,  was  some- 
thing more  aristocratic ;  but  any  thing  that  would 
merely  hold  them  was  made  to  pass  muster.  With 
plenty  of  trees  at  hand,  and  an  axe  and  auger,  a 
backwoodsman  never  thinks  himself  unprovided 
while  the  snow  continues. 

It  is  in  the  winter  that  the  great  work  of  cutting 
and  squaring  timber,  in  the  forests,  for  export  to 
Europe,  is  done.  Millions  of  acres,  covered  with 
the  noblest  trees,  invite  the  industry  of  the  wealthier 
merchants  by  the  promise  of  liberal  profit,  along 
the  whole  edge  of  Canada,  toward  the. north,  from 
the  Ottawa  to  Lake  Huron.     What  the  quantity  of 


J  i' 


}\'l 


i-  ,1 


t-l 


i 


i!  'I 


iii 


m 


14 


144 


Squaring  Timhcr. 


timber  this  vast  region  contains  must  be,  may  be 
estimated  in  some  measure  from  the  report  of  tlie 
Crown  Land  Commissioner,  a  few  years  since, 
whicii  says,  that  in  the  (Jttawa  district  akme,  there 
is  enough  to  answer  every  demand  for  the  next  six 
hundred  years,  if  tliey  continue  felhng  it  at  tlie 
present  rate.  There  is  no  fear,  assuredly,  of  wood 
running  short  in  Canada  for  many  a  day.  The 
rafts  brouglit  down  from  Lake  Huron  alone  are 
wonderful  —  thousands  on  thousands  of  immense 
trees,  squared  so  as  to  lie  closely  together,  each 
long  enough,  ap})arently,  to  be  a  mast  for  a  large 
vessel.  I  have  looked  over  ther  wilderness  of  the 
forest  from  two  points  —  the  one,  the  limestone 
ridije  that  runs  from  Niagara  northward  —  the 
other,  from  the  top  of  the  sand-hills  on  the  edge  of 
Lake  Huron  —  and  no  words  can  tell  the  solemn 
grandeur  of  the  prospect  in  either  case.  Far  as 
the  eye  could  reach  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen 
but  woods  —  woods  —  woods  —  a  great  sea  of  ver- 
dure, with  a  billowy  roll,  as  the  trees  varied  in 
height,  or  the  lights  and  shadows  played  on  them. 
It  is  said  that  the  open  desert  impresses  the  travel- 
ler with  a  sense  of  its  sublimity  that  is  almost  over- 
powering—  the  awful  loneliness,  the  vast,  naked, 
and  apparently  boundless  sweep  of  the  horizon  on 
every  side,  relieved  by  no  life  or  motion,  or  even 
variety  of  outline,  subduing  all  alike.  But  I  ques- 
tion if  the  sight  of  an  American  forest  be  not  equally 
sublime.     The  veil  cast  by  the  trees  over  the  land 


Sqtiarin^j  Timber. 


own  unprofa„ed  retreat^-  t|.^^^        """"'^  '"  '"-"• 

year  after  year,  for  agef  he  ^  ''  "  "'"}  ''"""^' 
prompted  b,  such  .>  at  .;„  ,  'j?'"'  °^  '"^-'-y 
»''aJe;"  the  sense  of  vast  «  ''  ""'""'-^'^y  of 

"'0"gl.t  that  the  cirJe  7  •  '"?''"™'''«  '™"'  'he 
overpowers  you,  sweepson  r'  T"""'  "'"■^■''  ^° 
boundless  rc..io  ,s  l^H^'  "' ^l?' S"""'^'"'-'  o^er 

«>'the«;nd^iLvv   andT  T"'  '"'"-"•  '^'""S'''^ 
The  district  i„  2kh    l^     r'^'' 

Upper  Ottawa,  wher^va.   tic    T""'   "'   ""   "" 
trees  are  leased   from  Onv  1"'"  ^'"1  °'1'« 

'■"   Quebec,   MontreJ  f  ?'^™™'="'  ^7  merchant. 

f  o™,reg;on?rr;i:tTt:b  '-'•  *-« 

from  Kingston  and  oS  ,  ^''"'^'"'"^  set  out 

-•'h  them^  their  IS?"'  '"•   "  """*""'  ""^'"S 
*e.,-  andbuildin"";,;  l^r^  -"■  ?«*-  Acur! 

-•^-oughhuts,to°livf,^'tou:htrT'"-'''''^ 
-as  soon  as  they  reach     1"   •      "      "«  ''■"""• 

«'-ere  as  the  cold  TL      ^    '""'•     ^'"^"^^ly 
f-pingatnightswit'h'tfrtr-forit^ 

lougliing  "  it  by  dav  n,  J  ll  '"  *"'"'  ^""i 

"f  doing  in  EngLd  "^thev  \     ''""  """'''  *"* 
f-andthem1.sti-g:S,ti;;i'*%'-%'-t 

■^''--'-- is  on,;  part  oftv  £.f^\,^^ 


I 


)  ' 


* 


146 


Rafts, 


must  also  drag  them,  over  the  snow,  to  the  river, 
by  oxen, ^and  join  them  into  rafts  after  getting  them 
to  it.  To  form  these,  a  hirge  number  of  logs  are 
laid  closely,  side  by  side,  and  lashed  togetlier  by 
long,  thin,  supple  rods,  tied  round  pins  driven  into 
them,  and  further  secured  by  transverse  poles  pin- 
ned down  on  them ;  and  they  are  then  floated  as 
rafts  toward  the  St.  Lawrence,  which  they  grad- 
ually reach,  after  passing,  by  means  of  contrivances 
called  *'  slides,"  over  the  rough  ])laces,  where  the 
channel  is  broken  into  rapids.  As  they  go  down, 
poling  or  sailing,  or  shooting  the  slides,  their  course 
is  enlivened  by  the  songs  and  shouts  of  the  crew, 
and  very  exciting  it  is  to  see  and  hear  them.  Once 
in  the  broad,  smooth  water,  several  smaller  rafts 
are  often  joined  together,  and  every  thing  carefully 
prepared  for  finally  setting  out  for  the  lower  ports. 
Even  from  their  starting,  they  are  often  rigged  out 
with  short  masts  and  sails,  and  houses  are  built  on 
them,  in  which  the  crew  take  up  their  abode  dur- 
ing the  voyage.  When  they  are  larger,  quite  a 
number  of  sails  are  raised,  so  that  they  form  very 
striking  objects,  when  slowly  gliding  dow  .1  the  nv  er, 
a  rude  steering-apparatus  behinc  ang  the     ist 

construction.* 

It  is  wonderful  how  men  stand  the  c  Kposure  of 
the  winter  in  the  forests  as  they  do.     Indeed,  a  fine 


*  On  the  upper  lakes,  the  crew  often  take  their  mves  and 
children,  with  their  poultry,  etc.,  on  the  rafts  with  them. 


Caniting  out.  ,  .. 

young  toll,„v,  a  fricMuI  of  mine   ,  . 
•'-'  1-  liked  „,„|„„.  bet       ;,!,     r'"^'"'''  '"'''  •"« 

■•"'"■-'■^t  tl,c.  snows    „,-,,/   I  ',"'"'  "  ™'"P  ""'  " 

"'••'"••^  "■"'  "-  g  »    h    fd     ;  "'^''"'  "■"  ""-"  «1"-"'^' 
>"i.s.sion  of  the  ;« -k  of  ?'"  '"'•^"'  '■"•  i««'° 

s"m,to  travel  some  dis  anoo  !  '         '"^  "'■™- 

»•"•'.  '-yond  tl.esettl  d  „.,  t  of  |      ""'"""""^  «>«' 
weresevo  or  e,Vd,t  '^'  '"'"""-' "'""try-    Tl.ere 

'-"^broods,  wi,  ^  tw :;:,  t  - '  "";'"<'-«  t- 

S"Wes,  and  nartl-^  to  Z/        .<--"'l;l'>yed,  partij  as 
t»  wear  snow-slioes   tn  1-        ..  ''''  '""■f>-  '""I 

;o*i.esoftsnow::;^;,-  tiivr^'-"''^ 

•"'-'great  depth;  and  th  si      f  "'"">■  l''"<^'-'«. 

'■"«ll,ands,isa  oncev7     "f  '  ^■■'■^•^'P'  •»  <-'xj>m- 

"■»;<  crossed  with  a  it!"  J;  f  ,w        ?'";  °''  ''g'" 
"'"'  to«-l--eh  it  is  stranncSr  "'"'■'='''' 

•'"-  l-esented  enabl    i  H  J         ''"'""  "''  ^"^"^^ 

^'•»'^-     Sta  tin.  a      ;  °  ,''";"'■'';'  '-  -«"'''  at  once 

;'''''<'^'^onas°;en:':;^^^^^^^^^^^ 

'^"^•'••.sofsomeofthem.etf,(,  '       '  ""''''-''  '""' 

f''-er,stepwirtfe:xr:ftr''''"''"'''^'"- 

sl"«'s  underneath      It  ,v  *"'  «'''''"  «''ow- 

l"'-'^  •''«■'■  stops  in 'such  a  den;],"   T"   ""^■'"l'*"'ff   to 


I 
lit' 


1 

\] 

M4i 

■ 

1 

t 

,1 


i-. 


'  ^^^^w 

1     ^-'i? 

■  ) 


148 


Camping  out. 


safe  part  of  the  ice  at  any  moment.  Meanwhile, 
the  sky  got  darker  and  more  lowering,  until,  at  last, 
it  broke  into  a  snow-storm  so  heavy,  that  they 
could  hardly  see  one  another  at  a  few  yards'  dis- 
tance. The  wind,  which  was  very  strong,  blew 
directly  in  their  faces,  and  howled  wildly  through 
the  trees  on  each  side,  whirling  the  drift  in  tl.uck 
clouds  in  every  direction.  Still  they  held  on  as  well 
as  they  could,  in  moody  silence,  till,  at  last,  it  was 
evident  to  all  that  they  must  give  up  the  struggle, 
and  make  as  good  an  encampment  as  they  could, 
for  the  night,  where  they  were.  Turning  aside, 
therefore,  into  the  forest,  where  a  dark  stretch  of 
pine-trees  promised  protection,  they  proceeded  to  get 
ready  their  resting-place.  With  the  help  of  their 
axes,  a  maple  was  soon  felled,  and  large  pieces  of 
bark,  from  the  fallen  trees  around,  formed  shovels, 
by  which  a  square  spot  of  ground  was  cleared  of 
the  snow.  A  fire  was  the  next  great  subject  of  in- 
terest, and  this  they  obtained  by  rubbing  "ome  of 
the  fibrous  bark  of  the  white  cedar  to  powder,  and 
laying  over  it  first  thin  peelings  of  birch-bavk,  and 
then  the  bark  itself,  a  match  sufficing  to  set  the  pile 
in  a  blaze,  and  the  whole  forest  offering  fuel.  Pil- 
ing log  on  log  into  a  grand  heap,  the  trees  around 
were  soon  lighted  up  with  a  glow  that  shone  far  aiitl 
near.  To  protect  themselves  from  the  snow,  which 
was  still  falling,  a  qua  itity  of  spruce-boughs  were 
next  laid  overhead  on  the  rampart  of  snow  which 
had  been  banked  up  round  them  to  the  height  cw' 


I 


A  Public  Meeting. 


149 


nearly  five  feet,  the  cold  of  the  day  being  so  great, 
that  the  fierce  fire,  blazing  close  at  hand,  made  no  im- 
pression on  it  whatever.  Slices  of  salt  pork,  toasted 
on  a  stick  at  the  fire,  having  been  got  ready  by  some, 
and  broth,  cooked  in  a  saucepan,  by  others,  they 
now  took  their  comfort,  as  best  they  could,  in  a 
primitive  supper,  logs  round  the  fire  serving  for  seats. 
After  this  came  their  tobacco-pipes  and  a  long  smoke, 
and  then  each  of  the  party  lay  down  with  his  feet 
to  the  fire,  and  slept,  t^overed  with  snow,  till  day- 
light next  morning.  This  is  the  life  led,  week  after 
week,  by  those  whose  avocations  call  them  to  fre- 
quent the  forests  during  winter ;  nor  are  the  com- 
forts of  some  of  the  poorer  settlers  in  new  districts, 
while  they  live  in  "  shanties,"  at  their  first  coming, 
much  greater,  nor  their  exposure  much  less. 

A  public  meeting,  held  in  the  next  township, 
gave  us  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  population  of 
a  wide  district  in  all  the  variety  of  winter  costume. 
We  went  in  a  neighbor's  sleigh,  drawn  by  a  couple 
of  rough  horses,  whose  harness,  tied  here  and  there 
with  rope,  and  unprovided  with  any  thing  to  keep 
the  traces  from  falling  down,  or  the  sleigh  from 
running  on  the  horses'  heels,  looked  a^  unsafe  as 
possible.  But  Canadian  horses  know  how  to  act 
under  such  circumstances,  as  if  they  had  studied 
them,  and  had  contrived  the  best  plan  for  avoiding 
unpleasant  results.  They  never  ^\  alked  down  any 
descent,  but,  on  coming  to  any  gully,  dashed  down 
the  icy  slope  at  a  hard  gallop,  and,  flying  across  the 

13* 


|! 


i  ft  t 


r4i 


11' 


liffW 


!  i'l 


»i 


'.  f 


{.'/. 


ii 


150 


A  Public  Meethig, 


logs  which  formed  a  bridge  at  the  bottom,  tore  up 
the  opposite  ascent,  till  forced  to  abate  their  speed 
by  the  weight  of  the  vehicle.  Then  came  the  dri- 
ver's part  to  urge  them  up  the  rest  of  the  acclivity 
by  every  form  of  threatening  and  persuasion  in  the 
vocabulary  of  his  craft ;  and  the  obstacle  once  sur- 
mounted, off  we  were  again  at  a  smart  trot.  It  was 
rather  mild  weather,  however,  for  comfortable  sleigh- 
ing, the  snow  in  deep  places  being  little  better 
than  slush,  through  whicli  it  was  heavy  and  slow 
work  to  drag  us.  At  others,  the  ground  was  well- 
nio-h  bare,  and  then  the  iron-shod  runners  of  the 
sleigh  gave  us  most  unpleasant  music  as  they  grated 
on  the  stones  and  gravel.  As  to  shaking  and  jum- 
bhng,  there  was  enough  of  both,  as  often  as  we  struck 
on  a  lump  of  frozen  snow,  or  some  other  obstruction  ; 
but,  at  last,  we  got  to  our  journey's  end.  The  vil- 
lage was  already  thronged  by  numbers  who  had 
come  from  all  parts,  for  it  was  a  political  meeting, 
and  all  Canadians  are  politicians.  Such  costumes 
as  some  exhibited  are  surely  to  be  seen  nowhere 
else.  One  man,  I  noticed,  had  a  suit  made  of  drug- 
get carpeting,  with  a  large  flower  on  a  bright-green 
ground  for  pattern,  one  of  the  compartments  of  it 
reaching  from  his  collar  far  down  his  back.  Blan- 
ket coats  of  various  colors,  tied  round  the  waist  with 
a  red  sash,  buffalo  coats,  fur  caps  of  all  sizes  and 
shapes,  moccasins,  or  coarse  Wellington's,  with  the 
trowser-legs  tucked  into  them,  mitts,  gloves,  and  fur 
gauntlets,  added  variety  to  the   picture.     Ahuost 


A  Public  Meeting. 


151 


every  one  was  smoking,  at  some  time  or  other.  The 
sleighs  were  ranged,  some  under  the  shed  of  the 
viHage  tavern,  others  along  the  sides  of  the  street, 
the  horses  looking  like  nondescript'  animals,  from 
the  skins  and  coverlets  thrown  over  them  to  protect 
them  from  the  cold.  The  "  bar  "  of  the  tavern 
was  the  great  attraction  to  many,  and  its  great  blaz- 
iig  fire,  on  which  a  cartload  of  wood  glowed  with 
exliilarating  heat,  to  others.  Every  one  on  entering, 
after  desperate  stamping  and  scraping,  to  get  the 
snow  from  the  feet,  and  careful  brushing  of  the  legs 
with  a  broom,  to  leave  as  little  as  possible  for  melt- 
ing, made  straight  to  it,  holding  up  each  foot  by 
turns  to  get  it  dried,  as  far  as  might  be.  There  was 
no  pretence  at  showing  deference  to  any  one ;  a  la- 
borer had  no  hesitation  in  taking  the  only  vacant  seat, 
though  his  employer  were  left  standing.  "  Treat- 
and   beinn;  "  treated "  went  on   with  fj-reat 


mo; 


spirit  at  the  bar,  mutual  strangers  asking  each  other 
to  drink  as  readily,  as  if  they  had  been  old  friends. 
Wine-glasses  were  not  to  be  seen,  but,  instead, 
tumblers  were  set  out,  and  "  a  glass  was  left  to  mean 
what  any  one  chose  to  pour  into  them.  One  old 
man  I  saw  put  his  hand  in  a  knowing  way  round 
his  tumbler,  to  hide  his  filling  it  to  the  brim  ;  but  he 
proved  to  be  a  confirmed  and  hopeless  drunkard, 
who  had  already  ruined  himself  and  his  family,  and 
was  able  to  get  drunk  only  at  the  expense  of  others. 
We  stayed  for  a  time  to  listen  to  the  speeches, 
which  were  dilivered  from  a  small  balcony  before 


pp 


'  ■  i 


i^": 


152 


3fi/  Toe  Frozen. 


the  window  of  the  tavern,  but  were  very  uninter- 
esting  to  me,  at  least,  though  the  crowd  stood  pa- 
tiently in  the  snow  to  hear  them.  I  confess  I  was 
glad  when  our  party  thought  they  had  heard 
enough,  and  turned  their  sleigh  homewards  once 
more. 

I  had  the  misfortune  to  get  one  of  my  great  toes 
frozen  in  the  second  or  third  winter.  We  were 
working  at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  repairing  a  fence 
which  had  been  blown  down.  The  snow  was 
pretty  deep,  and  I  had  been  among  it  some  hours, 
and  did  not  feel  colder  than  usual,  my  feet  being 
every  day  as  cold  as  lead,  whenever  I  was  not 
moving  actively  about.  I  had  had  my  full  meas- 
ure of  stamping  and  jumping  to  try  to  keep  up  the 
circulation,  and  had  no  suspicion  of  anything  extra, 
till,  on  coming  home,  having  taken  off  my  stock- 
ings to  heat  myself  better,  to  my  consternation,  the 
great  toe  of  my  left  foot  was  as  white  as  wax  —  the 
sure  sign  that  it  was  frozen.  Heat  beino;  of  all 
things  the  most  dangerous  in  such  circumstances, 
I  had  at  once  to  get  as  far  as  j)ossible  fi'om  the  fire, 
while  some  one  brought  me  a  large  basin  of  snow, 
with  which  I  kept  rubbing  the  })oor  stiff  member 
for  at  least  an  hour  before  it  came  to  its  rii^ht  hue. 
But  what  shall  I  say  of  the  jiain  of  returning  circu- 
lation ?  Freezino;  is  nothinii,  hut  thawincr  is  ao-o- 
ny.  It  must  be  dreadful  indeed  where  the  injury 
has  been  extensive.  Even  to  this  day,  not  wit  li- 
standing  all  my  rubbing,  there  is  still  a  tender  spot 


.*)!<' 


^^^ 


Hospitality, 


153 


in  the  corner  of  my  boot  on  cold  days.  It  was  a 
mercy  I  noticed  it  in  time,  for  liad  I  put  my  feet 
to  the  fire  without  first  thawino;  it,  I  mio;ht  have 
had  serious  trouble,  and  have  lost  it,  after  great 
suffering.  A  gentleman  I  knew,  who  got  his  feet 
frozen  in  1813,  in  marchinor  with  his  reo-iment  from 
Halifax,  in  Nova  Scotia,  to  Niagara — a  wonderful 
achievement  in  the  depth  of  winter,  through  an 
uninhabited  wilderness  buried  in  snow  —  never 
perfectly  recovered  the  use  of  them,  and  walked 
lame  to  the  day  of  his  death. 

In  our  early  days  in  Canada,  the  sacred  duty  of 
hospitality  was  observed  with  a  delightful  readiness 
and  freeness.  A  person  who  had  not  the  means  of 
paying  might  have  travelled  from  one  end  of  the 
country  to  another,  without  requiring  money,  and 
he  would  everywhere  have  found  a  cheerful  wel- 
come. The  fact  was  that  the  sio-ht  of  a  strange 
face  was  a  positive  relief  from  the  monotony  of 
everyday  life,  and  the  news  brought  by  each  visitor 
was  felt  to  be  as  pleasant  to  hear,  as  the  entertain- 
ment could  be  for  him  to  receive.  But  selfish 
thoughts  did  not,  after  all,  dim  the  beautiful  open- 
handedness  of  backwoods  hospitality.  No  thought 
of  any  question  or  doubt  rose  in  the  matter  —  to 
come  to  the  door  was  to  rest  for  the  night,  and 
share  the  best  of  the  house.  I  was  once  on  my 
way  westward  to  the  St.  Clair,  from  London,  Can- 
ada West,  just  in  the  interval  between  the  freezing 
of  the  roads  and  the  fall  of  the  snow.     The  stage 


M 

sfells'S 


r- '  "  > 


■  t 
I. 
i 


1 .  2L 

1 


l! 


M 


fi. 

1,    .    ■ 

1 

\ 

■  i. 

i    ■ 

1     'iti^' 

l| 

^f 

i' 

154 


Hospitality, 


^  could  not  run,  nor  was  travelling  by  any  kind  of 
vehicle  practicable;  indeed,  none  could  have  sur- 
vived the  battering  it  would  have  got,  had  it  been 
broufrht  out.  As  I  could  not  wait  doino;  nothin<2; 
for  an  indefinite  time,  till  snow  made  sleigliing  pos- 
sible, which  I  was  told  by  the  stage  proprietor 
"  mi»i;ht  be  a  week,  mioht  be  a  fortni";ht,"  I  deter- 
mined  to  walk  the  sixty  miles  as  best  I  could. 

But  sucli  roads  !  As  to  walking,  it  was  impossi- 
ble ;  I  had  ratlifer  to  leap  from  one  hillock  of  frozen 
mud  to  another,  now  in  the  middle,  now  at  each 
side,  by  turns.  There  was  a  little  snow,  which 
only  made  my  difficulties  greater,  clogging  the  feet, 
and  covering  up  holes.  For  yards  together,  the 
road  had  been  washed  away  by  the  rains,  and  its 
whole  surface  was  dotted  with  innumerable  little 
frozen  lakes,  where  the  Avater  had  lodged  in  the 
huge  cups  and  craters  of  mud  which  joined  each 
other  in  one  lono;  network  the  whole  way.  It  was 
a  dreadful  scramble,  in  which  daylight  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  save  broken  legs.  No  man 
could  have  got  over  it  in  the  dark.  In  the  early 
afternoon,  I  reached  a  tavern  at  the  roadside  and 
had  dinner,  but  as  I  was  told  that  there  was 
another,  seven  miles  ahead,  I  thought  I  could  reach 
it  before  night,  and  thus  get  so  much  nearer  my 
journey's  end.  But  I  had  reckoned  beyond  my 
powers,  and  darkness  fell  while  I  was  as  yet  far 
from  mv  c;oal.  Luckily,  a  little  loir-house  at  a  dis- 
tance,  showed   itself  noiir  the    road   by  the  light 


Hospitality. 


156 


through  its  windows.  Stumbling  toward  it  as  I 
best  could,  I  told  them  how  I  was  benighted,  and 
asked  if  I  could  get  shelter  till  morning. 

"  Come  in,  sir,"  said  the  honest  proprietor,  "  an' 
you're  welcome.'*  He  proved  to  be  a  decent  shoe- 
maker ;  a  young  man,  with  a  tidy  young  woman 
for  his  wife ;  and  as  I  entered,  he  beckoned  me  to 
be  seated,  while  he  continued  at  his  work  on  an  old 
shoe,  by  the  help  of  a  candle  before  him. 

"  Bad  roads,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  very,"  answered  my  host.  *'  I  never  puts 
any  man  away  from  my  door ;  nobody  could  get  to 
tlie  tavern  over  sich  roads  as  them.  Take  your 
coat  off,  and  make  yourself  comfortable." 

I  did  as  I  was  told,  and  chatted  with  the  couple 
about  all  the  ordinary  topics  of  backwoods  con- 
versation —  the  price  of  land  —  the  last  crops  — 
how  long  he  had  been  there,  and  so  on,  till  tea,  or, 
as  they  called  it,  supper ;  for  Canadians  generally 
take  only  three  meals  a  day.  And  a  right  hearty 
meal  I  made,  from  a  display  of  abundance  of  snowy 
bread,  excellent  butter,  ham  in  large  slices,  and  as 
much  tea  as  there  might  be  water  in  the  kettle,  for 
tea  is  the  weak  point  in  bush  fare.  When  bedtime 
came,  I  found  there  was  only  one  bed  in  the  house, 
and  could  not  imagine  how  they  were  to  do  with 
me ;  but  this  was  soon  solved  by  their  dragging  the 
feather  bed  off,  and  bringing  it  out  where  I  was, 
from  the  inner  room,  and  spreading  it  on  the  floor 
opposite  the  fire.     Nothing  would  induce  them  to 


•    ): 


I"  ■■  ' 


156 


Nearly  Lost  in  the  Woods. 


keep  it  for  tlicmsclves  and  ^Ive  me  anything  elsp ; 
I  was  tlieir  guest,  and  tliey  would  have  ine  enter- 
tained as  well  as  they  could.  Next  morning,  a  fa- 
mous breakfast  was  got  ready,  and  I  was  again 
made  to  sit  down  with  them.  But  not  a  word 
would  the  honest  fellow  hear  about  money.  *'  He 
would  never  be  the  worse  for  giving  a  bed  and  a 
meal  to  a  traveller,  and  I  was  very  welcome."  So 
I  had  to  thank  them  very  sincerely  and  bid  them 
good-day,  with  their  consciousness  of  having  done  a 
kindness  as  their  only  reward.  On  this  second 
day's  journey,  I  had  the  most  awkward  mishap  that 
ever  befell  me  in  tlie  woods.  I  was  all  but  lost  in 
them,  and  that  just  as  the  sun  was  about  to  set. 
The  roads  were  so  frightful  that  I  could  liardly  get 
on,  and  hence,  when  the  landlord  of  one  of  the 
wayside  taverns  told  me  I  would  save  some  miles 
by  cutting  through  the  bush  at  a  point  he  indi- 
cated, I  was  very  glad  to  follow  his  advice.  But 
trees  are  all  very  much  alike,  and  by  the  time  I 
got  to  where  he  told  me  to  leave  the  road,  I  must 
have  become  confused  ;  for  when  I  did  leave  it,  not 
a  sign  of  any  track  showed  itself,  far  or  near.  I 
thought  I  could  find  it,  however,  and  pushed  on, 
as  I  fancied,  in  the  direction  that  had  been  pointed 
out  to  me.  But,  still,  no  road  made  its  appear- 
ance, and,  finally,  in  turning  round  to  look  for  it,  I 
forgot  which  way  to  set  myself,  on  again  starting. 
In  fact  I  was  lost,  fairly  lost.  I  had  got  into  a 
wide  cedar-swamp,  the  water  in  which  was  only 


Nearly  Lost  in  the  Woods. 


f;7 


157 


sliglitly  frozen,  so  that  I  liad  to  leap  from  tlie  root 
of  one  tree  to  that  of  another.  Not  a  sound  was  to 
be  heard,  i.or  a  Hving  creature  to  be  seen.  Only 
trees,  trees,  trees,  black  and  unearthly  in  the  les- 
sening light.  I  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  If 
forced  to  stay  there  all  night,  I  might  —  indeed,  I 
would  likely  —  be  frozen  to  death:  but  how  to  get 
out?  That  I  ultimately  did,  I  know,  but  by  no 
wisdom  of  mine.  There  was  absolutely  nothing 
to  guide  me.  My  deliverance  was  the  merciful  re- 
sult of  having  by  chance  struck  a  slight  track, 
which  I  forthwith  followed,  emerging  at  last,  not, 
as  I  had  hoped,  some  miles  ahead,  but  a  long  way 
behind  where  I  had  entered. 


U 


y^i 


\i[ 


i 


,  1 


Mil 


VjS 


Visitors, 


CHAPTER    IX. 


6  '1 


'^m 


Involuntary  racing.  —  A  backwoods'  parsonage.  —  Graves  In  the 
wilclorness.  —  Notions  of  equality.  —  Arctic  winters.  —  iiuflcd 
grouse.  —  Indian  lishing  in  winter.  —  A  marriage.  —  C  ur  winter's 
pork. 

AMONG  our  occasional  visitors,  we  liad,  one 
year,  at  one  time,  no  fewer  tlian  three  minis- 
ters, who  chanced  to  be  on  some  Home  Missionary 
Society  business  in  our  quarter,  and  very  nice  com- 
pany they  were.  Some  of  their  stories  of  the  ad- 
ventures that  befel  them  in  their  journeys  amused 
us  greatly.  One  was  a  Stout,  hearty  Irishman,  the 
two  others  Englishmen  ;  and  what  with  the  excite- 
ment of  fresh  scenes  every  day,  and  the  healthy 
open  air,  of  which  they,liad  perhaps  too  much,  they 
were  all  in  high  spirits.  At  one  part  they  had 
crossed  a  tract  of  very  rolling  land,  where  the  road 
was  all  up  one  slope  and  down  another,  and  this, 
as  every  thing  happened  at  the  time  to  be  one  great 
sheet  of  ice,  was  no  pleasant  variety  to  their  enjoy- 
ments. There  was  too  little  snow  for  sleighing,  and 
yet,  to  ride  down  these  treacherous  descents  in  a 
wheeled  conveyance,  was  impossible.  At  the  top 
of  an  extra  long  one  they  had  therefore  determined, 


Involuntary  liacing. 


159 


not  only  to  get  out,  but  to  take  tlie  horses  out,  one 
of  tliem  leading  them  clown,  while  the  other  two 
brought  down  the  vehicle.  It  was  a  large,  double- 
seated  affair,  with  four  wheels,  and  a  pole  for  two 
horses ;  and  it  was  thought  that  the  best  plan  to 
to  get  it  down  safely  was  for  one  of  the  two  to  go 
to  the  tongue  of  the  pole  in  front,  while  the  other 
held  back  behind.  Every  tiling  thus  arranged,  at  a 
given  signal  the  first  movement  over  the  edge  of 
the  slope  was  made,  and  all  went  well  enough  for  a 
few  steps.  But  the  worthy  man  behind  soon  felt 
that  he  had  no  power  whatever,  with  such  slippery 
footing,  to  retard  the  quickening  speed  of  the  wheels, 
while  the  stout  Irishman,  who  chanced  to  be  at  the 
front,  felt,  no  less  surely,  that  he  could  neither  let 
his  pole  go,  nor  keep  it  from  driving  him  forward 
at  a  rate  to  which  he  was  wholly  unaccustomed. 
"  Stop  it.  Brooks  —  I'll  be  killed  !  —  it'll  be  over 
me  !  "  "I  can't  stop  it,"  passed  and  repassed  in  a 
moment,  and,  at  last,  poor  Mr.  Brook's  feet  having 
gone  from  under  him,  the  whole  affair  was  consigned 
to  his  Irish  friend,  whom  the  increasing  momentum 
of  his  charge  was  makino;  fly  down  the  hill  at  a 
most  unclerical  rate.  "  I'll  be  killed !  I'm  sure 
it'll  be  over  me  !  "  was  heard  to  rise  from  him  as  he 
dashed  away  into  the  hollow  beneath.  His  two 
friends  not  only  could  do  nothing  to  help  him,  but 
could  not  move  for  laughing,  mixed  with  anxiety, 
till  at  last  the  sufferer  managed  to  find  rehef  when 
he  had  been  carried  a  considerable  way  up  the  next 
slope. 


7,  m^ 


uKil^ 


:i1 


160 


A  Backivoods'  Parsonage. 


'  I 


fin,'     :.i  »  i  ^ . 


li: 


W'} 


One  of  the  three  wore  a  contrivance  over  his  fur 
cap  in  tnivellino;,  which,  so  far  as  I  liavo  noticed, 
was  unique.  It  w^s  made  of  hrown  l^cilin  wool, 
niurli  in  tlie  sli.ipe  of  one  of  tlie  lu-Iincts  of  the 
Kniglits  Templars,  in  the  Temple  C'lmrcli.the  only 
openin<f  i)ein^  for  part  of  the  face,  while  what  you 
miiiht  call  its  tails  huno;  down  over  his  shoulder. 
He  looked  very  nmch  like  one  of  the  men  in  the 
dress  for  iioiiic  down  in  a  divinij-hell,  when  it  was 
on  him,  his  heatl  standino;  out  like  a  hu<i;e  ball  froni 
nis  shoulders.  Their  entertainment  was,  it  appeared, 
sometimes  strange  enoujih.  One  wive  an  account 
of  a  ni<j;ht  he  had  spent  in  a  backwoods'  parsonage, 
where  the  mice  had  run  over  his  pillow  all  niii;ht, 
the  only  furniture  in  his  room,  besides  the  bed, 
"being  souk  pieces  of  bacon  and  a  bit  of  cheese.  He 
had  had  the  only  spare  room  in  the  house,  which, 
in  fact,  in  the  absence  of  guests,  served  as  a  store- 
room. Nor  was  this  the  worst ;  though  it  was  in 
the  depth  of  winter,  he  could  see  the  stars  through 
chinks  of  the  roof  as  he  lav,  and  snow  liavinj::  come 
on  in  the  night,  he  found  it  lying  deep  on  his  cover- 
let when  he  awoke.  What  some  clergymen  suffer 
in  the  poorer  districts  must,  indeed,  be  terrible.  A 
touching  thing  about  the  one  who  could  offer  only 
such  poor  accommodation  to  a  friend,  was  his  point- 
ing to  a  little  mound  in  the  few  feet  of  enclosure 
before  his  door,  and  saying  that  his  only  son,  an  in- 
fant, was  buried  there.  The  way  in  which  graves 
are  scattered  up  and  down  Canada  is,  indeed,  one 


,1      ,s„ 


'ill' 


( «■  ■  ■*ii';«i 


4 

■■'11 

-.    'J 

t    ' 
i 

t 

I 

f( 


1(1 

01 
VI 

m 

til 
ra 
to 
Co 
hv 

tll( 


notions  of  Equality. 


161 


of  the  most  affecting  sights,  as  one  passes.  Cliurch- 
yards  are,  of  course,  only  found  where  population 
has  gathered  to  some  extent,  and  hence,  all  who 
die  in  the  first  periods  of  settlement  used  to  be  bu- 
ried on  their  own  farms.  Very  often,  in  riding 
through  old  parts  of  the  country,  a  little  paling  in 
tlie  side  of  a  field  ulis  the  story  of  some  lonely 
£rrave.  The  Moslems,  who  feel  themselves  about  to 
die  in  the  desert,  pass  away  with  a  parting  })rayer  that 
tlie  Resurrection  Angel  may  not  forget  their  lonely 
resting-places  at  the  last  day.  I  have  often  thought 
tliat  these  patriarchs  of  the  woods  might  have  closed 
their  life  with  the  same  petition. 

One  of  our  visitors  told  us  an  amusing  story  of 
the  notions  of  equality  that  every  win  re  prevailed. 
He  had  been  visiting  an  old  Canadian  township, 
with  his  wife  and  a  young  lady,  their  fi-iend,  and 
found,  when  night  came,  that  there  was  only  one 
bed  v»n.)COupied,  which  was  appropriated  to  himself 
and  his  wife.  Their  friend  was,  therefore,  led  away 
i  ^  inuther  room  in  which  there  were  two  beds  — 
one  for  the  host  and  his  wife,  the  other  for  the  ser- 
vant, and  to  this  she  was  pointed,  with  the  infor- 
mation that  if  she  lay  close  she  could  find  room  at 
the  mrl's  back.  Not  altoo;ether  relish incr  this  ar- 
rimgement,  she  made  some  excuse  for  returning 
to  the  "  parlor,"  where  she  sat  for  a  time,  only 
coming  to  hev  sleeping-place  when  she  could  not 
help  it.  But  that  she  should  ever  have  hesitated  in 
the  matter,  seemed  to  all,  alike,  unaccountable,  and, 

14* 


,ii 


t  i 


162 


Arctic  Winders. 


our  visitor  ass  tied  us,  had  so  impressed  their  minds, 
tliat,  a  good  while  after,  he  learned  that  they  still 
talked  of  it,  and  spoke  of  her  pride  as  marking-  un- 
usual depravity. 

In  later  years  I  was  happy  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance, in  one  of  the  Canadian  towns,  of  Captain 
L ,  who  had  commanded  one  of  the  expedi- 
tions in  search  of  Sir  John  Franklin,  and,  in  many 
ct)nversations  with  him,  learned  })articu]ars  of  win- 
ter life  in  the  more  northern  part  of  the  American 
continent,  which,  in  comparison,  make  that  of  Can- 
ada even  invitinii;.  To  think  of  undressinix,  for  ei^dit 
months  of  the  year,  in  these  fearful  regions,  is  ou 
of  the  question.  The  dress,  frozen  stiff  through  the 
day,  is  thawed  into  soaking  wetness  by  the  heat  of 
a  snow-house  at  night,  in  which  each  sits  as  close 
to  his  neighbor  as  is  possible,  with  no  light  but  that 
of  a  miserable  lamp,  and  impiisoned  on  every  side 
by  the  heaped-up  blocks  of  snow.  In  Canada,  we 
can  always  get  ourselves  dried,  wdiatever  the  weath- 
er ;  but  there,  all  alike,  when  not  on  board  ship, 
are  wet,  montli  after  month,  each  night  through  the 
winter.  Happening  one  day  to  hear  a  boy  whist- 
ling the  negro  song,  "  Old  Uncle  Ned,"  the  captain 
stopped  me  with  the  question,  "  Where  do  you  think 
I  first  heard  that  song?  "  Of  course  I  told  him  I 
could  not  tell.  "  It  was  on  a  ten'ible  nioht,  in 
Prince  Regent's  Inlet,  when  we  were  crossing  it. 
The  snow  was  fallino;  very  heavilv,  and  the  storm 
i'oarin<];  throuiih  the  hunnnocks,  and  I  had  called  a 


iii 


Ruffed  Gfrouse, 


163 


halt  befjina  a  gi'cat  piece  of  ice  which  offered  a 
shelter.  I  thought  we  had  better  build  a  snow- 
liouse  behind  it  and  take  refuge  for  the  niglit.  The 
men  squatted  down  in  this,  I  in  their  midst,  all  of 
us  huddled  together  as  close  as  possible,  and,  to  keep 
up  their  spirits  through  the  dismal  hours,  they  began 
singing  one  thing  after  another,  and  that  among  the 
rest."  This  was  worse  than  the  encampments  of 
surveyors,  bad  though  they  be. 

There  was  not  a  great  deal  of  sport  to  be  had,  if 
we  exclude  the  deer,  in  our  neighborhood.  When 
we  went  out  with  our  guns,  the  snow  was  generally 
marked  by  a  good  many  squirrel  tracks,  and  the 
woodpeckers  were  still  to  be  seen,  but  game,  properly 
so  called,  was  not  abundant.  There  was  some  how- 
ever, and  we  managed  to  get  our  proportion  now  and 
then  for  our  table.  One  day,  in  passing  a  tree, 
I  heard  a  sound  something  like  that  of  a  grouse 
rising,  and,  on  turning,  to  my  astonishment,  found  it 
came  from  a  bird  like  our  partridges,  which  had 
lighted  on  a  bough  close  at  hand.  A  moment,  and 
it  was  in  a  fair  way  for  contributing  to  our  dinner. 
These  birds  are  in  Canada  called  partridges,  but 
their  proper  name  is  the  niffed  grouse.  When 
sprung,  it  flies  with  great  vigor  and  with  a  loud 
whirring  noise,  sweeping  to  a  considerable  distance 
tlu-ouo;!!  the  woods  L  ibre  it  alights.  The  cock  has  a 
singular  power  of  making  a  drunnning  noise  with  his 
wings,  which,  when  heard  in  the  silence  of  the  svoods, 
lias  a  strange  effect.     Standing  on  an  old  fallen  log, 


•  * .', 


\  ' 


I 

■if 
J'' 


i 


164 


Ruffed  Grouse. 


and  inflating  its  whole  body  as  a  turkey-cock  does, 
strutting  and  wheeling  about  with  great  stateliness, 
he  presently  begins  to  strike  with  his  stiftened  wings 
in  short  and  quick  strokes,  which  became  more  and 
more  rapid  until  they  run  into  each  other,  making 
the  sound  to  which  I  allude.  It  is  no  doubt  the  way 
in  Avhich  he  pays  his  addresses  to  his  mate,  or  calls 
her  from  a  distance.  They  always  perch  in  trees, 
delighting  in  the  thick  shade  of  the  spruce  or  the 
pine,  and  are  perfect  models  of  stupidity,  letting  you 
get  every  advantage  in  your  eiforts  to  shoot  them.  I 
have  known  one  sit,  without  attempting  to  stir,  while 
a  dog  was  getting  frantic  in  his  appeals  at  the  tree 
foot  that  you  should  come  and  kill  it.  If  your  gun 
snap  you  may  take  your  time,  and,  if  necessary,  may 
draw  your  charge  and  reload,  without  your  victim 
moving.  He  will  stand  and  gape  at  you  during  the 
whole  process,  even  if  your  dog  be  barking  and 
tearino;  a  few  vards  below  him.  It  is  even  said  that 
you  may  bag  ;,  whole  covey  of  them  if  you  shoot  the 
lowest  first  and  go  upwards.  I  myself  have  seen 
my  brother,  on  coming  on  some  cff  theni  when  with- 
out his  gun,  run  home  perhaps  half  a  mile  for  it, 
and  find  them  still  sitting  where  they  were,  when 
became  back,  as  if  waiting  to  be  shot.  They  are 
delicious  eating,  and  so  tender  is  their  sUn,  that  you 
must  not  think  of  carrying  them  by  the  head,  which 
would  be  sure  to  come  ofi'  with  the  weicrht  of  the 
body. 

One  day,  walking  down  the  ice  of  the  river,  a 


Indian  Fisuing  in  Winter'. 


165 


curious  appearance  presented  itself  at  some  distance 
before  me,  like  a  brown  hoap,  or  laound,  thrown  up 
on  the  white  surface.  Making  my  way  toward  it, 
when  about  a  hundred  yards  off,  I  thought  I  saw  it 
move  a  little,  and,  halting  for  a  moment,  perceived 
that  it  really  did  so.  I  was  half  inclined  to  go 
home  for  my  gun  to  make  myself  safe,  when  sud* 
denly  the  head  and  shoulders  of  an  Indian,  raised 
from  the  edge  of  the  buffalo  skin,  for  such  it  was, 
dissipated  any  alarm.  Going  up  to  him,  I  found 
he  was  employed  in  fishing,  and  partly  for  protec- 
tion, partly  to  keep  the  fish  from  being  alarmed, 
had  completely  covered  himself  with  the  hide  which 
had  so  attracted  my  attention.  He  had  cut  a  hole 
through  the  two-feet-thick  ice  about  a  foot  square, 
and  sat  with  a  bait  hanging  from  one  hand,  while 
in  the  other  he  held  a  short  spear  to  transfix  any 
deluded  victim  which  it  might  tempt  to  its  destruc- 
tion. The  bait  was  an  artificial  fish  of  white  wood, 
with  leaden  eyes  and  tin  fins,  and  about  eight  or 
nine  inches  in  length.  He  seemed  rather  annoyed 
at  my  disturbing  him ;  but  on  my  giving  him  a 
small  ball  of  twine  I  happened  to  have  with  me, 
we  became  good  enough  friends,  and  after  a  few 
minutes  I  left  him. 

There  was  a  marriage  on  the  river  the  first 
winter  we  were  there,  which,  in  some  respects, 
amused  us.  The  bride  was  an  elegant  girl,  of  gen- 
teel manners ;  and  the  bridegroom  was  a  well-edu- 
cated and  very  respectable  young  man ;  but  that 


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166 


A  Marriage. 


either  of  tliem  sliould  have  thought  of  marrying  in 
such  a  state  of  poverty  as  was  common  to  both,  was 
a  thing  to  be  thouglit  of  only  in   Canacki.     Tlie 
bridegroom's  wealth  was,  I  believe,  limited  to  some 
twenty  pounds,  and  the  bride  brought  for  her  ])or- 
tion  fifty  acres  of  land  and   some  stock,  which  a 
relative   gave  her  as  a  dowry.     But   money  she 
had  none,  and  even  the  shoes  in  which  she  went  to 
be  married,  as  I  afterwards  learned,  had  been  bor- 
rowed from  a  married  sister.     Their  future  home 
was  simply  a  dilapidated  log-house,  which   stood 
with  its  gable  to  the  roadside,  perhaps  eight  feet  by 
eighteen,   forming   two   apartments,    an   addition, 
which  had  once  been  intended  to  be  made,  so  as  to 
join  the  end  next  the  road  at  right  angles,  but  re- 
mained unfinished,  being  shut  off  by  a  door  of  thin 
deal,  which,  alone,  kept  the  wind  out  at  that  cor- 
i!er.     We  crossed  the  ice  to  the  American  side  to 
have  the  ceremony  performed,  after  which    there 
was  a  grand  dinner,  with  true  Canadian  abundance, 
in  her  patron's  house,  in  which,  up  to  that  time, 
she  had   had  her  home.     Their  own  shanty  not 
being  as  yet  habitable,  the  young  cou})le  remained 
there  till  it  was  repaired,  so  as  to  let  them  move  to 
it.     But  no  money  could  be  spent  on  the  mansion  ; 
whatover  was  to  be  done  had  to  be  «k>ne  by  the 
kind  aid  of  amateurs,  if  anv  Canadians  deserve  that 
name,    what       '^    t'    -   niny    have    to   undertake. 
The  chimney  had  t"         rebuilt  of  mud,  the  walls 
caulked  and  filled  up  with  mud,  some  panes  of  glass 


Primitive  Furniture. 


167 


put  in  the  two  little  windows,  a  wooden  latch  to  be 
fitted  to  tiie  thin  deal  that  formed  the  outer  door, 
and  the  wliole  had  to  be  whitewashed,  after  which 
all  was  pronounced  ready.  The  furniture  was  as 
primitive  as  the  house.  A  few  dishes  on  a  rude 
shelf,  a  pot  or  two,  a  few  wooden  chairs  and  a  table, 
set  otf  the  one  end ;  while,  in  the  other,  an  apology 
for  a  carpet,  and  a  few  better  things  —  the  faint 
traces  of  richer  days  in  their  father's  houses  — 
made  up  their  parlor ;  a  wooden  bench  on  the  one 
side,  ingeniously  disguised  as  a  sofa,  reminding  you 
of  the  couplet  in  Goldsmith's  description  of  the 
village  ale-house,  where  was  seen 

"  The  chest,  contrived  a  double  debt  to  pay  — 
A  bed  by  uight,  a  chest  of  drawers  by  day." 

The  produce  of  the  fifty  acres,  which  were  most- 
ly cleared,  but  which,  having  been  the  farm  of  an 
old  French  settler,  were  wellnigh  worn  out  for  a 
time,  and  had  wretched  fences,  was  to  be  the  sup- 
port of  the  young  housekeepers,  though,  less  than  a 
year  before,  the  husband  had  been  a  student  in  one 
of  the  universities  in  Scotland.  To  have  seen  him 
when  fairly  installed  in  his  agricultural  honors,  in  a 
wretched  straw  hat,  blue  shirt,  cotton  trowsers,  and 
heavy  coarse  boots,  with  a  long  blue  beech  rod  in 
his  hand,  shouting  to  his  oxen,  it  would  hardly  have 
occurred  to  an  old  countrvman  that  he  was  any 
thing  but  a  laborer.     I  am  thankful  to  say,  ho \v- 


.  I 


168 


Our  Winter's  Pork. 


ever,  that  he  uhimately  escaped  from  the  misery  in 
which  his  imprudent  marriage  threatened  to  involve 
him,  by  getting  into  a  pretty  good  mercantile  situa- 
tion, in  which,  I  hope,  he  is  now  comfortably 
settled.  I  should  have  said,  that,  having  no  money 
with  which  to  hire  labor,  all  the  work  on  his  farm 
had  to  be  done  by  his  own  hands,  without  any  aid. 
The  trifle  he  had  at  first,  melted  like  snow,  the  two 
having  set  out  with  it  to  make  a  wedding-trip,  in  a 
sleigh  to  a  town  seventy  miles  off,  from  which  they 
returned  with  little  but  the  empty  purse. 

A  little  before  Christmas  a  great  time  came  on  — 
the  high  solemnity  of  the  annual  pig-killing  for  the 
winter.  It  was  bad  enough  for  the  poor  swine,  no 
doubt,  but  the  human  details  were,  in  some  respects, 
sufficiently  ludicrous.  The  first  year  we  got  a 
man  to  do  the  killing,  and  a  woman  to  manage  the 
rest ;  and,  between  them,  with  a  razor-blade  fixed 
hito  a  piece  of  wood  for  a  scraper,  they  won  our 
admiration  by  their  skill.  I  mention  it  only  for  an 
illustration  it  afforded  of  the  misery  to  which  the 
poor  Indians  are  often  reduced  in  the  winter.  A 
band  of  them  made  their  appearance  almost  as  soon 
as  we  had  begun,  and  hung  round,  for  the  sake  of 
the  entrails  and  other  offal,  till  all  was  over.  Of 
course  we  gave  them  good  pieces,  but  they  were 
hungry  enough  to  have  needed  the  whole,  could  we 
have  spared  it.  As  soon  as  any  thing  was  thrown 
aside,  there  was  a  scramble  of  both  men  and  women 
for  it.     Each,  as  soon  as  he  had  secured  his  share, 


;.f        ft 


Snffemijs  of  the  Indians. 


169 


twisted  it  round  any  piece  of  stick  tliat  lay  near, 
and,  after  thrusting  it  tor  a  minute  into  the  fire, 
where  the  water  was  heating  for  scalding  the  pigs, 
devoured  it  greedily,  filtiiy  and  hKithsonie  as  it  was. 
They  must  often  be  in  great  want  in  the  cold 
weather,  when  game  is  scarce.  I  was  coming  froni 
the  bush  one  morning,  when  I  saw  an  Indian  tug- 
ging with  all  his  might  at  something  that  lay  in  the 
middle  of  the  road.  On  nearer  approach,  it  proved 
to  be  one  of  our  pigs,  which  had  died  of  some  disease 
during  the  night.  The  poor  fellow  had  put  his 
foot  on  its  side,  and  was  pulling  with  all  his  strength 
at  the  hind-leg  to  try  to  tear  off  the  ham,  but  a 
pig's  skin  is  very  tough,  and  though  he  pulled  at  it 
till  he  liad  crossed  and  recrossed  the  road  several 
times,  he  had  to  give  up  the  battle  at  last,  and  leave 
it  as  he  found  it.  A  friend  of  mine  who  was  lost 
in  the  woods  for  several  days,  and,  in  the  end,  owed 
his  deliverance  to  his  falling  in  with  a  few  wigwams, 
told  me  that  the  Indians  informed  him  that  they 
were  sometimes  for  three  days  together  without 
food. 


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170 


Our  Neicjhhon, 


CHAPTER    X. 

Oup  neighbors.  —  Insect  plagues. —  Military  officers'  families  in  the 

bush. — An  awkward    mistake.  —  Dr.   D nearly  shot  for  a 

bear.  —  !Major  M .  — Our  candles.  —  Fortunate  escape  from  a 

fatal  accident. 

WE  used  to  liave  dell«^litful  evenings  sometimes, 
when  nein-liborino;  settlers  came  to  our  house, 
or  wlien  we  went  to  their  houses.  Scanty  though 
the  popuhition  was,  we  had  liglited  on  a  section  of 
the  country  which  had  attracted  a  number  of  edu- 
cated and  intelhgent  men,  who,  with  their  fumihes, 
made  capital  society.  Down  the  river  we  had 
Captain  G ,  but  he  was  little  respected  by  rea- 
son of  his  irregular  habits,  which,  however,  might 
be  partly  accounted  for  by  the  effect  on  his  brain 
of  a  fierce  slash  on  the  head  which  he  had  got  at 
the  storming  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo.  Then,  above  us, 
we  had,  about  three  miles  off,  Mr.  R ,  an  Eng- 
lish gentlenian-ftirmer,  who  had  found  his  way  to 
the  backwoods,  after  losing  much  money  from  one 
cause  or  another.  He  was  one  of  the  church- 
wardens, and  leader  of  the  choir  in  the  Episcopal 
chapel,  as  it  was  called,  for  there  is  no  church  es- 
tablishment in  Canada ;  a  man,  moreover,  of  much 
general  information,  a  good  shot,  and,  what  was 


Insect  Pla(juc8. 


171 


' } 


better,  a  fjood  Clirlstian.  He  liad  always  plenty 
of  fresh  London  newspapers  of  the  stiff  Tory  class, 
hut  acceptahle  to  all  alike  in  such  a  place  as  St. 
Clair.     His  house  was  at  the  foot  of  a  stcej)  bank, 

and  as  there  were  only  liimself  and  Mrs.  R 

to  occu])y  it,  its  size  was  not  so  strikino;  as  its  neat- 
ness. A  broad  verandah  ran  alono;  the  side  of  it 
next  the  river,  its  green  color  contrasting  veiy 
ph.'asantly  with  the  whiteness  of  the  logs  of  the 
house.  There  were  three  a])artments  within  ;  one 
a  sitting-room,  the  other  two  bedrooms,  one  of 
which  was  always  at  the  disposal  of  a  visitor.  Over 
the  mantelpiece  hung  a  gun  and  a  rifle,  and  on  it 
stood,  as  its  special  ornament,  a  silver  cup  given  by 
one  of  the  English  Cabinet  Ministers  as  the  prize 

in  a  shooting-match  in  B shire,  and  won  by  Mr. 

R .     There  was  only  one  drawback  to  a  visit 

to  him,  at  least  in  summer,  and  that  was  the  cer- 
tainty of  your  getting  more  than  you  bargained  for 
in  the  insect  way  when  you  went  into  the  barn  to 
put  up  your  horse.  Fleas  are  wondeifully  plentiful 
throughout  Canada,  but  some  parts  are  worse  than 
others.  A  sandy  soil  seemed  to  breed  them,  as  the 
mud  of  the  Nile  was  once  thought  to  breed  worms, 

and  Mr.  R 's  barn  stood  on  a  spot  which  the 

fleas  themselves  mig-ht  have  selected  as  a  favorable 
site  for  a  colony.  Under  the  shelter  of  his  sheds 
they  multiplied  to  a  wonderful  extent.  So  incura- 
ble was  the  evil  that  it  had  come  to  be  thought  only 
a  source  of  merriment. 


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Insect  Plagues. 


"  Ah,  you've  been  at  tlie  barn,  have  you  ?  lia, 
ha!"  was  all  the  pity  you  could  get  for  any  remark 
on  the  plentifulness  of  insect  life  in  these  quarters. 
"It  isn't  half  so  bad,"  he  added  one  day,  "as  the 
preacher  over  the  river,  who  sat  down  at  the  door- 
step of  the  chapel  to  look  over  his  notes  before  ser- 
vice, and  had  hardly  got  into  the  pulpit  before  he 
found  that  a  whole  swarm  of  ants  had  got  up  his 
trousers.  You  may  think  how  his  hands  went 
below  the  bookboard  on  each  side  of  him,  but  it 
wouldn't  do.  He  had  to  tell  the  cono-reo-ation  that 
he  felt  suddenly  indisposed,  and  would  be  back  in 
a  few  moments,  which  he  took  advantage  of  to  turn 
the  infested  garment  inside  out  behind  the  chapel, 
and  after  having  freed  them  of  his  tormentors,  went 
up  to  his  post  again,  and  got  through  in  peace." 

"  I  don't  think  he  was  much  worse  off,"  struck  in 
a  friend,  "  than  the  ladies  are  with  the  grasshoppers. 
The  horrid  creatures,  with  their  great  hooky  legs, 
and  their  jumping  six  feet  at  a  time,  make  dreadful 
work  when  they  take  a  notion  of  springing,  just  as 
folks  are  passing  over  them.  I've  seen  them  myself, 
through  a  thin  muslin  dress,  making  their  way  hither 
and  thither  in  service-time,  and  there  they  must 
stay  till  all  is  over." 

But  I  am  foro;ettinor  the  list  of  our  river  friends. 

There  were,  besides  Mr.  B ,  four  or  five  miles 

above  us,  Captain  W ,  who  had  been  flag-lieu- 
tenant of  a  frigate  off  St.  Helena,  while  Bonaparte 
was  a  captive  there,  and  had  managed  to  preserve 


^'  i; 


i 


Officers^  Families  in  the  Bush. 


173 


a  lock  of  his  soft,  Ho;ht  brown  liair;  and  Mr.  L , 

brother  of  one  of  our  most  eminent  English  judges, 
and  himseH'  once  a  midsliijjman  under  Caj)tain 
Marryatt ;  and  P()st-Caj)tain  V and  the  clergy- 
man —  the  furthest  only  ten  miles  off.  There  were, 
of  course,  plenty  of  others,  but  they  were  of  a  very 
dilferent  class  —  French  Canadians,  ajiricultural 
laborers  turned  fanners,  and  the  like,  with  very  little 
to  attract  in  their  society. 

The  number  of  genteel  families  who  had  betaken 
themselves  to  Canada,  was,  in  those  days,  astonish- 
ing. The  fact  of  the  Governors  being  then  mostly 
military  men,  who  offered  inducements  to  their  old 
companions  in  arms  who  had  not  risen  so  high  in 
rank  as  they,  led  to  crowds  of  that  class  burying 
themselves  in  the  woods  all  over  the  province.  I 
dare  say  they  did  well  enough  in  a  few  instances, 
but  in  very  many  cases  the  experiment  only  brought 
misery  upon  themselves  and  their  families.  Brought 
up  in  ease,  and  unaccustomed  to  work  with  their 
hands,  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  they  could 
readily  turn  mere  laborers,  which,  to  be  a  farmer 
in  Canada,  is  absolutely  necessary  I  was  once 
benighted  about  forty  miles  from  home,  and  found 
shelter  for  tho  night  in  a  log-house  on  the  roadside, 
where  I  shared  a  bed  on  the  floor  with  two  laborers, 
the  man  of  the  house  and  his  wife  sleeping  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room.  After  breakfast  the  next 
morning,  in  grand  style,  with  cakes,  "apple  sauce" 
in  platefuls,   bread   white  as  snow,  meat,   butter, 

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174 


Officers'  Families  in  the  Bash, 


■ 

cream,  cheese,  fritters,  and  colorless  green  tea  of 
the  very  worse  description,  I  asked  them  if  they 
could  get  any  conveyance  to  take  me  home,  as  the 
roads  were  very  heavy  for  travelling  on  foot,  from 
the  depth  of  the  snow,  and  its  slipperinpss  in  the 
beaten  track.    They  themselves,  however,  had  none, 

but  I  was   directed  to  Captain  L 's,   close  at 

hand,  where  I  was  told  I  might  find  one.  The 
house  stood  on  a  rising  ground  which  was  perfectly 
bare,  all  the  trees  having  been  cut  down  for  many 
acres  round.  There  was  not  even  the  pretence  of 
garden  before  the  doors,  nor  any  enclosure,  but  the 
great  shapeless  old  log-house  stood,  in  all  its  naked 

roughness,  alone.     Mrs.  L ,  I  found,  was  an 

elderly  lady  of  elegant  manners,  and  had  seen  a 
great  deal  of  the  world,  having  been  abroad  with 
her  husband's  regiment  in  the  Mediterranean  and 
elsewhere.  She  had  met  Sir  Walter  Scott  at  Malta, 
and  was  full  of  gossip  about  him  and  society  gen- 
erally in  England  and  elsewhere.  H<?r  dress  struck 
me  on  entering.  It  had  once  been  i  superb  satin, 
but  that  Was  very  many  years  before.  There  was 
hardly  any  thing  to  be  called  ftirniture  in  the  house, 
a  few  old  wooden  chairs,  supplemented  by  some 
blocks  of  wood,  mere  cuts  of  trees,  serving  for  seats, 
a  great  deal  table,  and  a  "grand  piano!"  which, 
Mrs.  L told  me,  they  bought  at  Vienna,  form- 
ing all  that  could  be  seen.  The  very  dog-irons  on 
which  their  fire  rested  were  broken.  Overhead,  I 
heard  feet  pattering  on  the  loose  open  boards  which 


Officers^  Families  in  the  Bush, 


175 


% 
^ 


formed  tlie  floor  of  some  apartments,  and  was  pres- 
ently  informed  tliat  '*  the  dressinrj-room"   of  the 

Misses  L was  above,  and  that  they  would  soon 

be  down.  Not  an  inch  of  carpet,  nor  any  orna- 
ment on  the  walls,  nor  any  thing,  in  fact,  to  take 
oti'  the  forlorn  look  of  emptiness,  was  in  the  place ; 
but  the  stateliness  of  language  and  manner  on  the 
pan  of  the  hostess  was  the  same  as  if  it  had  been  a 
l)alace.  After  a  time,  a  lad,  the  youngest  of  the 
household,  made  his  appearance,  and  was  informed 
of  my  wish  to  get  on  to  Bidport  as  quickly  as  possi- 
ble. He  was  introduced  as  having  been  born  in 
Corfu,  and  as  speaking  Greek  as  fluently  as  English ; 
but  the  poor  fellow  had  a  bad  chance  of  ever  mak- 
ing much  use  of  his  linguisdc  acquirements  in  such 
a  place.  The  horse  having  to  be  caught,  and  a 
jumper  to  be  *'  fixed,"  I  had  a  long  rest  before 
setting  out,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  the  sound  of  the 
axe,  and  of  wooden  pins  being  driven  home,  inti- 
mated that  the  vehicle  was  being  manufactured. 

Captain  L ,  it  appeared,  had  come  there  in  the 

idea  that  the  country  would  soon  be  filled  up,  and 
that,  in  some  magical  way,  the  soil,  covered  though 
it  was  with  trees,  would  yield  him  a  living  at  once 
plentiful  and  easily  procured.  But  years  had  passed 
on,  the  money  got  for  his  commission  was  spent,  and 
the  township  round  him  was  still  almost  a  wilder- 
ness.    From  one  step  to  another  the  family  sank 

into  the  deepest  want,  until    Mrs.  L was  at 

last  forced  to  try  to  get  food,  by  making  up  the 


'HA 


176 


Officers^  Families  in  the  Bush. 


:3I'    ■  \M 


;,i  ^-' 


wreck  of  her  former  finery  into  caps  and  sucli  like 
for  tlie  wives  of  the  boors  around,  and  liawkinrr 
them  about,  till  she  could  sell  them  for  flour  or 
potatoes.  It  could  not  have  been  expected  that  the 
captain  could  work  like  a  laborer — he  was  totally 
unfit  for  it,  and  would  have  died  over  his  task,  or, 
at  best,  could  have  made  no  livino; ;  and,  except 
the  striplinfiT  who  was  to  drive  me,  the  fainily  con- 
sisted onlv  of  dauo;hters.  One  of  these,  however, 
shortly  after  my  visit,  actually  mana<i:ed  to  make  an 
excellent  marriaf];e,  even  in  that  horrible  place  ;  but 
there  was  a  dash  of  the  ludicrous  even  in  the  court- 
ship, from  the  pinching  and  straits  to  which  their 
poverty  subjected  them.  The  suitor  had  not  as  yet 
declared  himself,  and  the  fact  of  his  being  a  gentle- 
man by  birth  and  education,  made  hisfrecpient  visits 
only  so  much  the  more  embarrassing.  One  day  he 
had  come  in  the  forenoon,  and  stayed  so  long,  that 
it  was  clear  iie  had  no  intention  of  leavino;  before 
dinner,  while  there  was  literally  nothing  in  the  house 
but  a  few  potatoes,  which  they  could  not  of  course 

offer  him.     What  was  to  be  done?     Mrs.  L 

and  the  fair  one,  her  eldest  daughter,  retired  to  a 
corner  of  the  room  to  consult,  and,  lest  any  thing 
should  be  overheard,  they  spoke  in  It:dian,  which 
they  never  dreamed  of  the  suitor  understanding. 
To  his  unspeakable  amusement,  the  whole  perplexity 
of  the  case  forthwith  j^roceeded  to  unfold  itself  in 
foreign  syllables.  "  The  nasty  fellow,  what  in  the 
world  wont  he  go  away  for  ?"  says  the  daughter ; 


F!      ) 


An  Atvhvard  Mistake. 


177 


**  look  at  him  tliero,  sitting  like  a  fool  when  people 
are  in  such  trouble.  He  oufjht  to  know  that  we  have 
notliing  in  the  pantry  but  a  few  horrid  potatoes." 
And  so  forth.  This  was  quite  enough  for  the 
visitor.  He  suddenly  recollected  that  he  had 
another  call  to  make,  and  their  difficulty  about 
him  was  over  in  a  minute.  But  the  marriaiie 
came  off  notwithstanding,  and  a*  handsome  couple 
they  made. 

After  a  time  the  sleigh  was  ready,  such  as  it 
was  —  a  rough  box,  on  rough  runners,  close  to  the 
ground,  with  a  piece  of  plank  for  a  seat,  and  a  bed- 
quilt  for  a  wrapper ;  and  late  that  night  I  got  home, 
a  halt-sovereign  and  his  expenses  making  the  poor 
young  fellow  right  glad  I  had  chanced  to  come  his 
way. 

One  day  I  was  much  diverted  by  an  incident 
narrated  to  me   by    jMr.  B 


— .     '^You    know/' 

said  he,  "  Dr.  D ,  from  Toronto,  was  riding 

along  in  a  sleigh  yesterday  on  some  business  or 
other.  You  are  aware  he  is  very  short  and  stout, 
and  he  had  on  a  buffalo  coat,  and  a  great  fur  cap. 
Well,  down  goes  his  horse,  its  feet  balled  with  the 
snow,  I  suppose  ;  and  there  it  lay,  helpless,  on  its 
side,  under  the  shafts.  It  was  pretty  near  old 
John  Thompson's,  the  Scotchman.  Out  gets  the 
doctor  to  li€lp  his  poor  horse  by  unbuckling  its 
straps,  and  so  on,  and,  being  very  short-sighted,  he 
had  to  get  down  his  face  almost  on  it.  Just  at 
tliis  time,  Mrs.  Thompson  chanced  to  come  to  the 


■iV': 


I  i 


I! 


:|y 


n 


178 


Marriages  in  the  Bath. 


i;i  \y 


ii 


door,  and  tlierc  was  this  apparition,  in  the  distance, 
in  tlie  niidille  of  tl«e  road.  She  instantly  made  uj) 
her  mind  what  it  was.  *  Eh,  John,  Jolm,  hrin«^ 
voiir  mui ;  liere's  a  bear  devoorin'  a  horse  ! '  But 
tliey  didn't  slioot  tlie  doctor  after  all,  for  the  old  man 
found  out  in  time  who  it  was." 

But  1  have  to  say  a  little  more  about  some  of  tho 
marriajj-es  in  our  nei<j;hborhood,  or  not  far  from  it. 
You  may  easily  sup})ose  that  it  is  not  every  one  who 

is  so  lucky  as  Miss  L ,  of  whom  I  have  spoken. 

Those  of  both  sexes  wlio  made  poor  matches  were 
much  more  numerous  in  those  early  days.     There 

was  Kate  S ,  the  daughter  of  a  ca})tain  in  the 

army,  an  elegant  girl,  who,  for  want,  1  suppose,  of 
any  other  suitor,  married  a  great  coarse  clown, 
whom  her  father,  had  lie  been  living  then,  would 
hardly  have  taken  to  work  for  them.  When  he 
died,  she  married  another,  his  fellow,  and  ended, 
on  his  dying,  by  taking,  as  her  third  husband,  a 
working  tailor,  with  three  or  four  children.     There 

was  Major  M ,  who  had  come  to  the  country 

about  the  same  time  as  Captain  L ;  nothing 

could  be  more  wretched  than  the  appearance  of  his 
house  on  the  road-side,  with  the  great  trees  almost 
close  to  it,  himself  an  elderly  man,  and  his  only 
children  two  daughters.  I  remember  passing  on 
horseback  one  frightful  morning,  when  the  roads 
were  at  the  worst,  and  finding  him  on  the  top  of  a 
prostrate  log,  trying  to  cut  off  enough  for  his  fire. 
His  daughter  finally  married  a  small  tradesman  in 


Scarcity  of  Candles, 


179 


a  neighboring  town ;  and  tlie  major  tliiLnkfully 
went  to  close  his  days  with  liis  son-in-law,  in  far 
ffrcater  comfort  than  he  had  known  for  a  long  time. 
Young  fellows  married  girls  whom  their  mothers 
would  hardly  have  taken  for  servants  in  England ; 
partly,  I  suj)pose,  because  there  were  not  in  some 
parts  many  to  choose  from,  and  partly,  no  doubt, 
because  their  position  as  farm-laborei's,  which  they 
had  really  come  to  be,  had  lowered  their  tastes.  I 
remember  seeing  a  young  man  come  out  of  a  village 
tavern  with  a  short  black  pipe  in  his  mouth,  a  long 
beech  rod  in  his  hand,  and  a  blue  blouse,  surmounted 
by  a  wretched  straw  hat,  for  his  dress,  his  whole 
appearance  no  better  than  that  of  any  laborer  round. 
He  was  driving  an  ox-wagon,  but,  before  starting, 
a  lady  at  my  side  in  the  stage,  which  had  stopped 
at  the  tavern,  accosted  him,  and  they  entered  freely 
into  conversation  together.     He  turned  out  to  be  a 

son  of  Colonel ,  who  lived  in  a  wretched  log-hut 

not  far  distant.  He  told  his  friend  that  he  hoped 
tc  get  a  good  birth  that  summer  as  purser  on  one  of 
tlie  small  lake  steamers  ;  and  I  hope  he  succeeded. 
Meanwhile,  he  was  mixing  with  the  herd  of  "bush- 
whackei's,"  as  Canadians  say,  at  the  tavern  fire, 
liimself  almost  one  of  them. 

We  had  one  drawback  in  the  long  winter  nights 
—  there  was  often  a  great  scarcity  of  candles. 
One  was  lighted  at  supper,  but  it  was  put  out  im- 
mediately after  the  meal ;  and  we  had  to  sit  at  the 
light  of  the  fire,  wliich  we  made  as  bright  as  possible 


180 


Air-holes  in  the  Ice. 


''   ♦ 


ii  !'• 


by  a  supply  of  iTsinous  i)iiio,  from  tiiiio  to  time. 
We,  sometimes,  hiid  en()U<:;li  of  ciiiuJles,  imleed,  but 
I  tliink  we  were  more  often  without  them.  Some 
lard  in  a  saucer,  with  a  jiieee  of  ra<^  for  a  wick, 
was  one  of  our  plans  in  addition  to  the  i)ine,  wiien 
we  wished  to  see  our  way  to  our  beds. 

There  was  very  nearly  a  iiital  accident  down  the 
river  one  day,  occasioned  by  a  slei<;h,  and  the  folks 
in  it,  with  the  horses  as  well,  breaking  throu<;h  an 
air-hole  in  the  ice,  that  is,  a  sj)ot  at  which  the  air 
imprisoned  below  the  ice  hjid  found  its  escape,  leav- 
ing the  surface  only  very  slightly  frozen.  How 
they  got  out  I  hardly  know,  but  the  ice  round  the 
hole  was  quite  strong ;  and  after  one  of  the  party 
had  clambered  upon  it,  he  managed  to  fish  out  the 
rest,  who  had  clung  to  the  sleigh.  Even  the  horses 
were  saved  ;  but  the  method  taken  with  them  seem- 
ed to  me  as  liazai'dous  as  it  was  strange :  ropes 
were  jMisscd  round  their  necks  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  when  by  this  means  they  were  half  choked, 
they  floated  so  high  that  they  were  got  out  with 
comparative  ease. 


M:  IB'? 


;  1 


n 


1'. 


I 

\ 


•■%'i:l 


Spring, 


181 


CHAPTER    XI. 


*  Now  Sprin;:^  ri-turns."  —  SuRur-makinf;.  —  Bush  psalmody.  — 
Hush  proachiti};.  —  Worsliip  iukUt  diHiculticfl.  —  A  ck'rical  Mrs. 
rartington.  —  Uiology.  —  A  gliost.  —  "It  slips  good."  —  SquaU 
tcra. 

11 Y  the  mifldlc  of  IMarcli  the  sun  had  hegim,  in 
^  the  very  open  j)laces,  to  show  some  power, 
especiiilly  in  tlie  Httle  spots  sheUered  from  the  cold 
by  the  woods,  where  liis  beams  found  an  entrance 
to  the  soil.  Here  and  there,  traces  of  the  bare 
earth  be<:jan  to  reaj)j)ear,  and  the  green  points  of  tho 
succulent  ])lants  were  prejiarino;  to  burst  out  into 
tlieir  first  leaves  ;  the  buds,  too,  on  some  of  the 
trees,  were  distinctly  visible,  but  tliere  was  a  lon<:j 
time  still  before  us,  between  these  first  promi.ses  of 
sDrinrr  and  their  actual  realization.  The  last  snow- 
fall  came  in  the  middle  of  Ajiril,  and,  between  that 
time  and  tlie  first  of  May,  the  weatlier  could  hardly 
be  said  to  be  settled  into  sprinn;.  l^nt  already,  to- 
wards the  third  week  of  March,  the  birds  had  made 
up  their  minds  to  come  back  to  us,  in  exj)ectation 
of  the  opening  leaf.  Flocks  of  blue  jays,  in  tlieir 
beautiful    plumage,    blue    set    off  with   white    and 

black,  flitted  from  the  top  of  one  of  the  lower  trotw 

16 


i-  '■'  ' 

r. ' '! 


\ 


Tl    ! 


■'i^V 


i'  1; : 


182 


Sugar-makiny. 


to  anotlior,  cluitterintj;  incessantly.  Everything 
liad  !)C'L'n  (lesolatc  around  us  for  lon^,  and  now  to 
see  sucli  si<;ns  of  returning  warmth  and  verdure 
was  unspeakahly  dehn;htful. 

Witli  the  Hrst  opening:!;  of  sj)rin<Xi  •'^^id  wliile  yet  tlie 
snow  lay  thick  in  the  fields  and  tlie  woods,  the  sea- 
son of  rna])le  sugar-making  commenced.  It  seemed 
extraordinary  to  me  for  a  long  time  that  sugar 
should  he  got  in  quantities  from  a  great  forest  tree, 
the  modest  sugar-cane  having  been  always  in  my 
mind  the  oidy  source  of  it — except,  indeed,  the 
sugar-beet,  by  the  growth  of  wliich  Napoleon  tried 
to  make  France  furnish  her  own  sugar,  instead  of 
having  to  buy  English  colonial  sugar  from  any  of 
the  European  ])orts.  But  a  great  quantity  is  made, 
in  Canada  and  the  United  States,  from  the  maple, 
both  for  sale  and  home  use,  a  vast  amount  being 
eaten  by  the  native-born  Canadians  as  a  sweetmeat, 
just  as  we  eat  candy;  and  very  little  else  is  known 
in  many  parts  of  the  backwoods  for  household  pur- 
poses. The  bests  days  for  sugar-making  are  the 
bright  ones,  after  frosty  nights,  the  sap  running  then 
most  freely.  The  first  thing  we  had  to  do  with 
our  "  bush,"  which  is  the  name  given  to  the  ma- 
ples preserved  for  sugar-making,  was  to  see  that 
each  tree  was  provided  with  a  trough,  which  we 
made  out  of  pine,  or  some  other  soft  wood,  by  cut- 
ting a  log  into  lengths  of  perhaps  two  feet,  then 
splitting  each  in  two,  and  hollowing  the  flat  side  so 
that  it  would  hold  about  a  bucketful  of  sap.     W© 


Sugar-makinj. 


183 


next  took  narrow  pieces  of  wood,  about  a  foot  lon<T, 
and  made  spouts  of  tliem  with  a  ^ou<;e,  after  wliidi 
wc  made  a  cut  in  eacli  tree,  with  tlie  axe,  three  or 
four  inclics  long  and  an  inch  deep,  in  a  shmting 
direction,  adcHng  anotlier  straiglit  cut  at  tlie  lower 
end  of  it  with  the  gouge,  that  there  might  be  no 
leaking,  and  sinking  a  liolc  for  a  spout,  where  they 
met ;  the  gouge  tliat  cut  the  spouts  making  the  liole 
into  which  they  were  tlirust.  i:i  ^ow  these  spouts 
the  troughs  were  set  to  collect  the  sap,  which  was 
carried  as  often,  as  they  were  '  arly  full,  ♦  j  another, 
of  enormous  dimensions,  close  to  *'ie  fire.  These 
colossal  tit)ughs  aio  simply  huge  trunks  of  trees 
hollowed  out  for  the  ])urpose  ;  ours  would  have 
held  fifty  barrels.  The  emptying  into  liils  was 
made  every  morning  and  evening  until  a  large 
quantity  had  been  gathered,  and  tlien  the  boiling 
began  in  large  "  kettles,"  as  they  are  called,  made 
for  the  purpose,  and  suspended  over  the  blazing  fire 
from  a  stout  pole,  resting  on  two  forked  branches 
thrust  into  the  earth  at  each  side.  The  sap  once  in 
the  kettles  has  a  hard  time  of  it :  the  fires  are  kept 
up  in  royal  brightness  for  days  together,  not  being 
allowed  to  die  out  even  during  the  night. 

It  was  a  very  pleasant  time  with  us,  though  it 
was  hard  work,  and  what  with  the  white  snow,  the 
great  solemn  trees,  the  wild  figures  dancing  hither 
and  thither,  and  our  lead  merriment,  it  was  very 
striking  when  the  eveningrs  had  set  in.  One  of  the 
kettles  was  ciiosen  for  "  sugaring  off,"  and  had  es- 


m 


m 


ift; 


I    ''■    '!!, 


.  li 


;l  Hi 


1       !' 


l.'^t 


i'-1 


<>   i 


184 


Sugar-making. 


pecially  assiduous  watching.  Not  a  moment's  rest 
could  its  unfortunate  contents  get  from  the  incessant 
boiHng  we  kept  uj) ;  fresh  sap  being  added  as  often 
as  it  seemed  to  be  getting  too  dry.  In  its  rage,  the 
sap  would  every  now  and  then  make  desperate  ef- 
forts to  boil  over ;  but  we  were  on  the  watch  for 
this  also,  and  as  soon  as  it  manifested  any  intention 
of  the  kind,  we  rubbed  round  the  inside  of  the  ket- 
tle with  a  piece  of  pork-fat,  beyond  the  limits  of 
which  it  would  no  more  pass  than  if  it  had  been  in- 
side some  magic  circle.  My  sisters  were  as  busy  as 
we  at  every  part  of  the  process,  and  their  poor 
dresses  showed  abundant  and  lasting  memorials  of 
their  labors,  in  the  rents  made  in  them  by  the 
bushes.  What  we  were  all  like,  from  head  to  foot, 
after  a  time,  may  be  more  easily  conceived  than  de- 
scribed. Our  smudged  faces,  and  sugary,  slopj)y 
clothes,  made  us  all  laugh  at  one  another. 

As  the  sap  grew  thicker  with  the  incessant  boiling, 
another  element  was  added  to  our  amusement,  in  tlie 
stickiness  of  every  thing  we  handled.  If  we  leaned 
ajjainst  a  loo;  at  hand  we  were  fast  bound  ;  and  the 
pots,  pans,  ladles,  buckets,  axe-handles,  troughs  — 
every  thing  we  touched,  indeed,  seemed  to  part  from 
us  only  with  regret.  We  were  fortunate  in  having 
no  young  children  amongst  us,  as  they  would,  of 
course,  have  been  in  the  thick  of  the  fray,  and  have 
become  half-crystallized  before  all  was  over.  The 
"  clearing  off"  was  managed  by  pouring  in  beaten 
eggs  when  the  sap  was  beginning  to  get  thick.    This 


% 


mv: 


iiiia«^^r«v^^ 


Sugar-making. 


185 


served  to  bring  all  the  impurities  at  once  to  the  top, 
so  that  we  could  readily  skim  them  off.  Several  in- 
genious ways  had  been  told  us  of  knowing  when 
the  process  was  complete.  One  was  by  boring 
small  holes  in  a  fiat  })iece  of  wood,  and  blowing  on 
it  after  dipping  it  into  the  syru}) ;  the  sugar  going 
throuixh  the  holes  in  lonix  bubbles,  if  it  were  boiled 
enough.  Another  plan  was  to  put  a  little  on  the 
snow,  when,  if  it  got  stiff,  it  was  time  to  pour  all 
out.  Every  thino;  that  would  hold  it  was  then, 
forthwith,  put  into  requisition,  after  having  been 
well  greased  to  keep  the  sugar  from  sticking,  and, 
presently,  we  had  cakes,  loaves,  lum})S,  blocks, 
every  shape,  in  fact,  of  rich  brown-colored  sugar 
of  our  own  making.  Some,  which  we  wanted  to 
ciystallize,  was  put  into  a  barrel,  and  stiiued  while 
cooling,  which  effectually  answered  the  purpose. 
Small  holes  bored  in  the  bottom  made  the  sugar 
thus  obtained  whiter  than  the  rest,  by  allowing  the 
molasses  mingled  with  it  to  drain  off.  We  ke})t 
some  sap  for  vinegar,  which  we  made  by  simply 
boiling  three  or  four  pailfuls  until  reduced  to  one, 
and  corking  this  up  in  a  keg  for  a  time. 

For  the  first  and  second  years  the  poorer  settlers 
have  a  dreadful  job  of  it  in  the  sugar  bush,  from 
not  havino;  had  sufficient  time  to  fence  it  in  from 
the  cattle,  which,  from  their  intrusion,  area  constant 
annoyance.  They  poke  their  great  noses  into  every 
thing,  and  one  taste  of  the  ssip  is  very  much  to  them 

what  they  say  the  taste  of  blood  is  to  a  tiger,  in 

10  * 


Mi^ 

"1 

im 

P 

1 

i 

In 

/;  4' 

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1.     1           *^iffi| 

l)iM 

ft  i  ,    ,*'^*Wt? 

5  1 

11 

ft 


im 


iijf 


ir.f 


186 


Sagar-making. 


stimulating  their  thirst  for  more.  In  they  come, 
braving  all  risks  lor  a  sip  of  their  much-loved  nec- 
tar ;  out  go  the  spouts  from  the  trees,  over  go  the 
buckets  of  sap,  and,  worse  than  all,  if  the  brutes 
succeed  in  drinking  any  quantity,  they  are  very 
often  seriously,  if  not  mortally  injured,  their  indul- 
gence acting  on  them  very  nuich  as  clover  does, 
blowing  out  their  stomachs,  and  even  bursting  them. 
Another  annoyance,  at  first,  is  the  not  having  had 
time  to  cut  out  the  "under  brush,"  so  as  to  make 
it  possible  to  take  a  sleigh,  with  barrels  on  it,  from 
tree  to  tree,  to  collect  the  sap,  with  the  help  of  oxen, 
and  hence,  having  to  carry  bucket  by  bucket  to 
the  "  kettles,"  often  from  a  considerable  distance, 
which  is  no  trifling  task,  over  wet  snow,  and  rough 
ground,  thick  with  every  obstruction.  We  were 
fortunate  in  this  respect,  having  been  warned  in 
time,  so  that  every  thing  was  as  light  as  such  work 
can  be. 

The  sugaring-ofF  day  was  rather  a  festivity  with 
us,  as  we  followed  the  custom  of  a  good  many  of 
our  neighbors,  and  invited  some  young  folks  to  come 
to  a  carnival  on  the  warm  sugar,  which  is  very 
nice,  though  I  should  not  care  to  eat  as  much  at  a 
time  as  some  of  our  visitors  did.  The  quantity  of 
sap  which  a  single  tree  yields  is  astonishing.  I 
think  some  gave  not  less  than  fifty  gallons,  and  the 
loss  of  it  seemed  to  do  them  ffood  rather  than  harm. 
The  older  and  stronger  the  trees  the  better  the  sap, 
and   the  more  abundant  —  a   peculiarity    vhich  it 


Bush  Psalmody, 


187 


of 


would  be  well  for  each  of  us  to  be  able  to  have  said 
of  his  own  life  as  it  advanced.  The  Indians  must 
have  been  acquainted  with  the  property  of  the  ma- 
ple for  ages  ;  stone  sugar-making  utensils,  of  their 
manufacture,  comprising  stone  troughs  and  long 
stone  spouts,  hollowed  out  and  pointed  for  sticking 
into  the  trees,  having  often  been  found  in  some  dis- 
tricts. The  few  who  still  survive  keep  up  the  hab- 
its of  their  ancestors  in  this,  as  in  other  respects, 
numbers  of  them  offering  sugar  which  they  have 
made,  for  barter,  each  spring. 

Happening  to  be  back  in  the  bush  one  Sunday,  I 
stopped  to  hear  the  Presbyterian  minister  preach ; 
he  being  expected  to  come  there  that  afternoon.  A 
log  school-house  was  made  to  serve  for  a  chapel  —  a 
(lark,  wretched  affair,  into  which,  gradually,  about 
seventy  or  eighty  people  managed  to  cram  them- 
selves. The  singing  was  conducted  by  an  old 
German,  whose  notions  of  music  were  certainly  far 
behind  those  of  his  countrymen  generall}'.  The 
number  of  grace  notes  he  threw  in  was  astound- 
ing ;  but  the  people  joined  as  well  as  they  could, 
using  their  powerful  lungs  with  so  much  vigor,  and 
in  such  bad  time  and  tune,  as  to  be  irresistibly 
ludicrous.  As  to  keeping  abreast  of  each  other 
tlirough  a  verse  or  a  line,  it  seemed  never  to  occur 
to  them.  A  great  fellow  would  roar  himself  out  of 
breath,  with  his  face  up  to  the  qeiling  and  his  mouth 
open,  like  a  hen  drinking,  and  then  stop,  make  a 
swallow  to  recover  himself,  or,  perhaps,  spit  on  the 


u 


t'!'i| 


188 


Worship  under  Difficulties. 


[iEh 


! 

r  1 
1 

i' 

l\ 

\  1 

i' 

L\ 

^i! 

1  ^ 

^^K 

,  1 

1 

B 

1 

W 

!'t> 

I 

k 

1 

floor,  .and  begin  again  where  lie  left  off,  in  total 
disregard  of  tlie  fact  that  the  others  were  half  a  line 
ahead.  Who  can  chronicle  the  number  of  "  re- 
peats "  of  each  line,  or  portion  of  one?  And  as 
to  the  articulation  of  the  words,  who  could  have 
miessed  their  meanino;  from  the  uncouth  sounds  he 
heard  ?  The  windows  were  very  small ;  and,  when 
tilled  with  people,  the  place  was  too  dark  for  print 
to  be  legible,  so  that,  notwithstanding  the  excessive 
cold,  the  minister  had  to  stand  outside  the  door 
throufih  the  whole  service.  About  the  middle  of 
the  sermon  a  brief  interruption  took  place,  from  a 
freak  on  the  part  of  the  stove,  which  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  and  was  of  the  common  kind, 
with  the  sides  held  together  by  a  raised  edge  on  the 
top  and  bottom.  As  usual  in  all  Canadian  churches 
and  meetings,  some  one  was  stuffing  this  contrivance 
full  of  wood  while  the  sermon  was  going  on,  when, 
in  a  moment,  the  top  got  a  trifle  too  much  lifted  up, 
and  down  came  stove-pipe,  stove,  fire  and  wood, 
in  one  grand  rumble,  to  the  ground.  As  the  floor 
chanced  to  be  made  only  of  roughly-smoothed 
planks,  with  great  gaps  between  each,  and  the  car- 
penters' shavings  and  other  inflammable  matter 
were  clearly  visible  below,  the  danger  of  the  whole 
structure  catching  fire  was  great ;  but  the  congre- 
gation were  equal  to  the  emergency.  A  number 
of  men  were  out  in  a  moment,  to  return,  the  next, 
with  great  armfuls  of  snow,  which  they  heaped  on 
the  burning  mound  in  such    profusion  that  every 


Worship  under  Difficulties, 


189 


spark  of  fire  was  extinguished  in  a  few  minutes. 
The  bottom  of  the  stove  was  tlien  prepared  again 
for  the  reception  of  the  sides,  tlie  top  was  once  more 
fitted  on,  the  stove-pipes  put  in  their  place,  the  rul> 
bish  thrust  into  its  proper  abode  inside,  and,  by  the 
lielp  of  a  few  wliitthngs  made  on  tlie  spot,  a  fresh 
fire  was  roaring  in  a  very  short  time,  enabhng  the 
minister  to  conclude  in  peace  and  comfort. 

I  have  seen  stranjre  iixndents  in  backwoods  wor- 
ship.  One  church  happened  to  be  built  on  rather 
high  posts,  leaving  an  open  space  of  from  two  to 
to  three  feet  below,  between  the  floor  and  the  ground. 
Into  this  shady  retreat  a  flock  of  sheep,  headed  by 
the  bell-wether,  had  n;ade  its  entrance  one  Sunday 
morning  while  we  were  at  worship  overhead,  and 
presently  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle  went  the  bell,  now 
in  single  sounds,  and  then,  when  the  wearer  perhaps 
shook  some  fly  off  its  ears,  in  a  rapid  volley.  No- 
body stirred.  The  clergyman  alone  seemed  incom- 
moded ;  but  no  one  thought  he  was  particularly  so, 
till,  all  at  once,  he  stopped,  came  down  from  the 
pulpit,  went  out  and  drove  off  the  intruders,  after 
which  he  recommenced  as  if  nothing  had  occurred. 
At  another  place,  at  the  communion,  to  my  astonish- 
ment, instead  of  the  ordinary  service,  a  black  bottle 
und  two  tumblers  were  brought  out,  with  all  due 
solemnit}'-,  as  substitutes. 

We  had  a  sample  of  the  strength  of  female  intel- 
lect, one  winter,  in  an  old  woman,  who  visited  the 
next  village  to  preach  on  the  Prophecies,  and  drew 


i 

■m 


vm 


p  \ 


i>  m 


V     I  i 


190 


;.   ■r-:ji 


A  Clerical  Mrs.  Partington. 


the  whole  of  the  humbler  population  of  the  neighbor- 
liood  to  hear  her.  Grammar,  of  course,  was  utter- 
ly disregarded ;  she  knew  the  obscurer  books  of 
Scripture  by  heart,  and,  having  a  tongue  more  than 
usually  vohible,  and  an  assurance  that  nothing  could 
abash,  she  did  her  best  to  enlighten  the  crowd  on 
no  mean  topics.  Using  her  left  arm  as  a  chrono- 
logical measure,  she  started,  with  Daniel,  at  the 
elbow,  and  reached  the  consummation  of  all  things 
at  her  finger-ends,  which  she  figuratively  called 
"the  jumping-off  place."  Some  of  her  similes,  as 
reported  through  the  township,  amused  me  exceed- 
ingly as  samples  of  what  was  just  suited  to  please 
the  majority  of  her  hearers.  "  There's  no  moi-e 
grace,  sir,  in  your  heart  than  there's  blood  in  a  tur- 
nip," washer  apostrophe  to  some  imaginary  sinner. 
"Them  sinners,"  she  added  —  "them  hardei.ed 
sinners,  needs  to  be  done  to,  as  you  do  to  a  old  black 
tobaky  pipe  —  throw  'em  into  the  fire,  and  burn  'em 
—  then  they'll  be  vvite."  Such  wandering  lumi- 
naries are,  for  the  most  part,  importations  from  the 
States,  where  they  abound  almost  beyond  belief. 
Another  of  these  learned  expositors  visited  us  for 
the  purpose  of  giving  lectures  on  "  Biology,"  by 
which  he  meant  the  effects  produced  on  his  patients 
by  looking  at  large  wooden  buttons  which  he  carried 
with  him ;  a  continued  stare  at  them  for  a  time 
making  the  parties  become,  as  he  averred,  com- 
pletely subject,  even  in  their  thoughts,  to  his  will. 
He  would  tell  one  he  was  a  pig,  and  all  manner  of 


Biology. 


191 


Bwinish  sounds  and  actions  followed.  Another  was 
assured  he  could  not  rise  from  his  seat,  and  forth- 
with appeared  glued  to  the  spot,  despite  his  most 
violent  efforts  to  get  up.  Whether  there  was  any- 
actual  truth  in  the  exhibition,  through  the  power 
of  some  subtle  mesmeric  laws  of  which  we  know 
little,  I  cannot  say.  Some  thought  there  was ; 
others,  that  the  whole  was  a  joke  of  some  young 
fellows  who  wished  to  create  fun  at  the  expense  of 
the  audiences.  But  the  exhibitor  himself  was  a 
real  curiosity,  in  his  utter  illiterateness  and  match- 
less assurance.  He  had  seen  somebody  else  exhibit- 
ing in  this  way,  and,  like  a  shrewd  Yankee,  thought 
he  might  make  a  little  money  by  doing  the  same. 
I  wished  to  gain  some  information  from  him  on  the 
subject,  if  he  had  any  to  give,  and  waited,  after  the 
crowd  had  separated,  to  ask  him  about  it ;  but  all 
I  could  get  from  him  was  the  frank  acknowledg- 
ment that  "  this  here  profession  was  not  the  one  he 
follered ;  he  had  jist  been  a-coming  to  Canedy 
after  some  lumber  —  he  dealt  in  lumber,  he  did  — 
and  calc'lated  that  he  might  as  well's  no  make  his 
expenses  by  a  few  licturs."  I  almost  laughed  out- 
right at  this  candid  avowal,  and  left  him. 

One  day,  Louis  de  Blanc,  an  old  Canadian 
voyager,  who  had  left  his  arduous  avocation  and 
settled  near  our  place  long  before  we  came,  anmsed 
me  by  a  story  of  an  apparition  he  had  seen  the 
night  before  in  passing  the  graveyard  at  the  little 
Catholic  chapel  on  the  roadside,  two  miles  above 


41-' 


^!  It, 


t   ,: 


i.    1 


[III! 


•i; 


hi 

v5      ] 


'■■■ 


rm 


192 


A  Crhost. 


us.  It  was  a  little  plot  of  ground,  neatly  fenced 
round  with  wooden  pickets,  with  the  wild  flowers 
growing  rank  and  high  among  the  few  lonely  graves, 
—  some  tall  black  crosses  here  and  there  outtopj)inn 
them.  "  You  know  Michel  Cauchon  died  last 
week ;  well,  he  always  had  a  spite  at  me ;  and, 
sure  enough,  last  night  about  twelve  o'clock,  as  1 
was  passing  tlie  churchyard,  didn't  I  see  his  ghost 
running  across  the  road  in  the  shape  of  a  rabbit. 
Ah  !  how  I  sweated  as  I  ran  home  !  I  never  stopped 
till  I  got  over  my  fence  and  safe  in  bed."  The 
poor  rabbit  that  had  caused  the  panic  would,  no 
doubt,  have  been  astonished,  could  it  have  learned 
the  terror  it  had  inspired. 

It  was  most  astonishing  to  see  what  kind  of  food 
some  of  these  old  Canadians  relished  —  at  least,  it 
was  so  to  me.  One  day,  having  gone  over  to  Le 
Blanc's  on  some  errand,  I  found  his  son  Louis,  a 
boy  of  twelve  or  fourteen,  with  the  handle  of  a  fry- 
ing-pan in  one  hand  and  a  spoon  in  the  other, 
drinking  down  mouthful  after  mouthful  of  the  melted 
fat  left  after  frying  pork,  and,  on  my  silently 
looking  at  him,  was  met  by  a  delighted  smile  and  a 
smack  of  his  lips,  accompanied  by  a  rapturous 
assurance  of,  "  Ah  !  it  slips  good."  Fat,  however, 
is  only  another  name  for  carbon,  or,  it  may  be  said, 
charcoal,  and  carbon  is  needed  in  large  quantities 
to  maintain  an  adequate  amount  of  animal  heat  in 
the  inhabitants  of  cold  climates,  and  to  this  must  be 
attributed  their  craving  for  grossly  fat  food.     Cap- 


*'  It  slips  yoody 


193 


tain  Cochrane,  in  his  '*  Pedt'strian  Tour  to  Beluing's 
Straits,"  shows  us  tluit  poor  Louis  Le  Blanc  was  in 
this  respect  tar  outdone  by  tiie  Siberian  tribes  living 
near  tlie  Arctic  (Jcean,  who  relished  nothing  more 
than  a  tallow  candle,  and  would  prolong  the  enjoy- 
ment of  one  by  pulling  the  wick,  once  and  again, 
through  their  halinjlosed  teeth,  that  no  particle  of 
the  grease  might  be  lost.     Indeed,  my  friend  Captain 

L told  me,  that  in  the  Arctic  regions,  his  men 

had  acquired  a  similar  relish  for  '*  moulds"  and 
"  dips,"  and  could  eat  a  candle  as  if  it  had  been 
sugai-stick.  The  Esquimaux,  as  we  all  know,  live 
on  the  nauseous  blubber  of  the  whale,  cutting  it  off 
in  long  strips,  which,  Sydney  Smith  facetiously 
avers,  they  hold  over  them  by  the  one  hand,  and 
guide  down  by  the  other,  till  full  to  the  mouth, 
when  they  cut  it  off  at  the  lips.  The  quantity  of 
butcher's  meat  eaten  by  every  one  during  winter 
in  Canada  is  astonishing.  Even  the  bush  people, 
who,  when  living  in  England  liardly  ever  saw  it, 
eat  it  voraciously  three  times  a-day,  with  a  liberal 
allowance  of  grease  each  time.  What  oceans  of 
nmtton-oil  I  have  seen  floating  round  chops,  in  some 
of  their  houses  I  How  often  have  I  declined  the 
offer  of  three  or  four  tablespoon fuls  of  pork-oil,  as 
"gravy"  or  *' sauce"  to  the  pork  itself  I  Yet  it 
''slips  good,"  apparently,  with  the  country  popu- 
lation generally.  The  quantity  of  butter  these*  good 
folks  consume  is  no  less  liberal.  On  the  table  of  a 
poor  log-house  they  never  think  of  putting  down  a 

17 


■1    i 


■M  1 


U.1  ?:. 


.  I  '■- 


Ir 


194 


Squatters. 


lump  weigliing  less  tlian  a  pound,  at  wlii  ;li  every 
one  hacks  as  he  hkcs  with  liis  own  knife.  But  tliey 
need  it  all,  and  it  is  a  mercy  they  have  it,  to  helj) 
them  to  withstand  the  effects  of  extreme  cold  and 
hard  work.  The  poorer  classes  in  towns,  who  have 
no  hind  on  which  to  raise  animal  food,  and  little 
money  with  which  to  buy  it,  must  sutfer  very 
severely. 

There  were  a  few  "  squatters  "  along  the  river 
here  and  there  —  that  is,  men  who  had  settled  on 
spots  of  the  wilderness  without  having  bought  them, 
or  having  acquired  any  legal  rights,  but  were  con- 
tent to  use  them  while  undisturbed  in  possession, 
and  to  leave  their  clearings  when  owners  came  for- 
ward. They  are  always,  in  such  cases,  allowed 
the  value  of  their  improvements,  and  as,  meanwhile, 
they  live  entirely  rent  free,  their  position  is  far 
from  wholly  disadvantageous.  In  the  early  days  of 
the  colony,  indeed,  there  was  no  other  plan.  The 
few  first  comers  could  hardly  be  any  thing  but 
squatters,  as  the  country  was  all  alike  an  uncleared 
wilderness,  and  there  is  no  inducement  to  pay  mon- 
ey for  any  one  spot,  had  they  possessed  the  means. 
Some  of  the  French  families  in  our  neighborhood 
had  been  settled  on  the  same  farm  for  generations, 
and  had  at  last  actually  bought  their  homesteads  at 
the  nominal  price  demanded  by  government ;  but 
the  squatters  were  not  yet  extinct,  though  they 
might  at  one  time  have  had  their  choice  of  the 
richest  soil  at  something  like  fourpence  an  acre. 


Squatters. 


195 


A  friend  of  mine  told  me,  that  within  a  period  of 
ahout  thirty  years,  lie  liad  seen  land  sold  again  and 
a""ain  at  no  hitrher  price.  On  the  same  lot  as  that 
which  boasted  the  Catholic  chapel,  one  —  a  lonely 
survivor  of  the  class  —  had  taken  up  his  abode, 
many  years  before  our  time,  building  a  log-house 
for  himself,  on  the  smallest  possible  scale,  a  lew 
vards  from  the  river.  How  he  could  live  in  such  a 
])lace  seemed  strange.  It  was  not  more  than  some 
ten  or  twelve  feet  in  length,  and  the  up})er  part  of 
it  was  used  as  his  barn.  Here,  all  alone,  poor 
Papineau  had  lived  —  no  one  I  ever  met  could  tell 
how  hmo;.  There  was  no  house  or  buildino;  in 
sight ;  no  one  ever  seemed  to  go  near  him,  nor 
did  he  ever  visit  any  neighbor.  He  was  his  own 
cook,  housekeeper,  washerwoman,  farm-laborer, 
every  thing.  I  often  wish  I  had  tried  to  find  out 
more  about  him.  We  used,  when  we  passed  along 
the  river  edge,  to  see  him  mowing  his  ])atcli  of  hay 
for  his  cow,  or  weeding  his  plot  of  tobacco,  for  he 
grew  what  he  required  for  his  own  use  of  this  as  of 
other  things  ;  and  he  was  always  the  same  silent, 
harmless  hermit  of  the  woods.  It  was  a  strange 
kind  of  life  to  lead.  How  different  from  that  of  a 
Londoner,  or  the  life  of  the  inhabitant  of  any  large 
o.ommunity !  Yet  he  must  surely  have  been  con- 
tented, otherwise  he  would  have  left  it  and  gone 
where  he  could  have  found  some  society 


m 


m 


196 


Buish  3Ia(/i8trate8. 


*  ! 


i         I 


-  P- 


^:,l 


I:  I  i 


n:'  i' 


li 


CHAPTER    XII. 

Bush  magistrates.  —  Indian  forest  guides.  —  Senses  quickemtd  by 
necessity. —  liroukiiig  up  of  the  ice.  —  Depth  of  the  frost.  —  A 
grave  in  winter.  — A  bull.  —  A  holiday  coat. 

IN  those  clays  our  local  dignitaries  were  as  pn'mi- 
tive  as  the  country  it'^elf.  On  the  river,  indeed, 
the  magistrates  were  men  of  education,  but  in  ihc 
bush,  the  majority  possessed  no  qualifications  for 
acting  the  part  of  justices.  One  of  them  had  the 
misfortune  one  winter  to  have  a  favorite  dog  killed 
by  some  mischievous  person,  and  feeling  excessively 
indignant  at  the  loss,  boldly  announced  that  he  was 
prepared  to  pay  a  I'eward  to  any  party  who  would 
give  such  information  respecting  the  offender  as 
should  lead  to  his  conviction.  The  wording  and 
spelling  of  this  proclamation  were  alike  remarkable. 
It  ran  thus :  "  Whereas  sum  nutrishus  vilain  or 
vilains  has  killed  my  dog  Seesur,  I  ereby  ofer  a  re- 
ward of  five  dolars  to  any  one  that  will  mak  none 
the  ofender  or  ofenders."  He  never  got  any  bene- 
fit from  his  efforts,  but  the  document,  in  his  own 
handwriting,  hung  for  a  long  time  on  the  wall  of 
the  next  tavern,  where  all  could  see  it,  and  not  a 
few  laughed  at  its  pecTiliarities. 


Indian  Forest  Guides, 


197 


1  w.'is  much  struck  by  an  iustaucc,  wliich  ix  long 
journey,  about  this  time,  tlirou;i;h  tlu;  woods,  fravo, 
of  tho  wonderful  faculty  ])Osscssc(l  by  the  Indians 
in  ^oing  straight  from  point  to  point  across  tho 
thickest  forest,  where  there  is  apparently  nothinj^ 
to  direct  their  course.  Ilavini^  occasion  to  return 
nearly  twenty  miles  from  a  back  township  to  which 
the  roads  liad  not  yet  been  o})ened,  and  not  likin;; 
t  t.ike  tlie  circuit  necessary  if  1  desired  to  find  otli- 
ers,  I  thought  myself  fortunate  in  meeting  witli  an 
Indian,  who,  for  a  small  reward,  oflfered  to  take  mo 
liome  by  the  nearest  route.  When  I  asked  him  how 
he  guided  himself,  he  could  say  very  httle,l)ut  liintcd, 
in  his  broken  EngHsli,  about  one  side  of  tlie  trees 
being  rouglier  than  the  other,  though  I  could  detect 
httle  or  no  difference  on  most  of  them.  If  it  had 
been  in  Nova  Scotia,  I  could  have  understood  liis 
reasoning,  for  there  the  side  of  the  trees  toward  tho 
north  is  generally  hung  with  a  long  gray  beard  of 
moss,  fi'om  the  constant  moisture  of  the  climate ;  but 
in  Canada,  it  would  take  very  sharp  eyes  to  tell 
which  was  the  northern  and  which  the  other  sides 
from  any  outward  sign.  They  must  have  some- 
thing more  to  guide  them,  I  think,  though  what  it 
is  I  cannot  conceive.  The  senses  become  wonder- 
fully acute  when  called  into  extraordinary  service. 
I  have  read  of  prisoners  in  dark  dungeons,  who 
got  at  last  to  be  able  to  see  the  spiders  moving  about 
in  their  webs  in  the  corners  of  their  cells  ;  and  blind 

people  often  attain  such  a  wonderful  delicacy  of 

17  ♦ 


^ 


i    I 


198 


Senses  quickened  hy  necessity . 


touch  as  to  be  able  to  detect  things  by  differences* 
so  sliglit  as  to  be  imperceptible  by  others.  The  fa- 
cility with  which  tliey  read  tlie  books  prepared  for 
them  with  raised  letters,  by  simply  j)assing  their 
fingers  over  the  surfaces,  is  well  known.  The 
sailor  can  discern  the  appearance  of  distant  land,  or 
the  Arab  the  approach  of  a  camel  over  the  desert, 
when  others  would  suspect  neither.  An  Indian  can 
smell  the  fire  of  a  "  camp,"  as  they  call  the  place 
where  a  party  rests  for  the  night,  when  a  European 
can  detect  nothing.  There  may,  therefore,  be  some- 
thing which  can  be  noticed  on  the  trees,  by  those 
who  pass  their  whole  lives  among  them,  which  oth- 
ers are  unable  to  discover.  The  Indians  derive  a 
great  advantage  fi'om  the  skill  they  possess  in  track- 
ing the  footsteps  of  men  or  animals  over  all  soits  of 
ground,  and  among  dry  leaves.  This  faculty  they 
are  enabled  to  acquire  owing  to  the  fact  that  the 
forests  in  North  America  are  generally  open  enough 
underneath  to  offer  easy  passage  ;  and,  moreover, 
that  the  soil  is  little  more  on  the  surface  than  a  car- 
pet of  rotten  wood  and  decaying  leaves,  which  easily 
receives  the  impression  of  footsteps,  and  retains  it 
for  a  leno;tli  of  time.  The  moss  on  the  fallen  trees 
is  another  great  help  in  tracking  the  course  of  either 
man  or  beast  through  the  forest ;  for  neither  the  one 
nor  the  other  can  well  make  their  way  over  them 
without  iTibbing  off  portions  here  and  there.  Nor 
is  the  mere  fact  of  the  passage  in  a  particular  direction 
all  that  an  Indian  can  detect  from  the  traces  on  the 


Breahing  up  of  the  Ice. 


199 


soil  or  vegetation.  They  reason  acutely  from  things 
which  others  would  overlook,  and  sometimes  surprise 
one  as  much  by  the  minute  and  yet  correct  conclu- 
sions they  draw  respecting  what  they  have  not  seen, 
as  the  Arab  did  the  Cadi  of  Bagdad,  when  he  de- 
scribed a  camel  and  its  load  which  had  passed,  and 
whose  track  he  had  seen  ;  maintaining  that  the  camel 
was  lame  of  a  foot  —  because  he  had  noticed  a  dif- 
ference in  the  length  of  the  steps  ;  that  it  wanted  a 
tooth,  because  the  herbage  it  had  cropped  had  a  piece 
left  in  the  middle  of  each  bite ;  and,  also,  that  the 
load  consisted  of  honey  on  one  side  and  ghee  on  the 
other,  because  he  had  noticed  drops  of  each  on  the 
path  as  he  went  along.  My  Indian  made  no  hesi- 
tation at  any  part  of  our  journey,  keeping  as  straight 
as  possible,  and  yet  he  was  forced  perpetually  to 
wind  and  turn  round  trees  standing  directly  in  our 
path,  and  to  vault  over  fallen  logs,,  which  he  did 
with  a  skill  that  I  in  vain  tried  to  imitate. 

About  the  beginning  of  April  the  ice  in  the  river 
was  getting  very  watery,  the  strength  of  the  sun 
melting  the  surface  till  it  lay  covered  with  pools  in 
every  direction.  Yet  people  persisted  in  crossing, 
lono;  after  I  should  have  thought  it  dangerous  in  the 
('xtreme.  It  seemed  as  if  it  would  hold  together 
for  a  long  time  yet,  but  the  heat  was  silently  doing 
its  work  on  it,  and  bringing  the  hour  of  its  final 
disappearance  every  moment  nearer.  It  had  be- 
come a  wearisome  sight  when  looked  at  day  after 
dsy  for  months,  and  vv^e  all  longed  for  the  open  river 


!i*;^ 


li 


1^ 


i 


u 


i  ■•:' 


i    ! 


Iti; 


4i  1  -n  V,  4 


200 


Breaking  up  of  the  Ice. 


once  more.  At  last,  about  the  sixteentli  of  the 
montli,  on  rising  in  the  morning,  to  our  dehglit,  the 
wiiole  surface  of  the  ice  was  seen  to  be  broken  to 
pieces.  A  strong  wind  whicli  had  been  blowing 
throuo;h  tlie  nio-ht  \\vA  c:aised  such  a  motion  in  tlie 
water  as  to  spHt  into  fragments  tlie  now-weakened 
sheet  that  bound  it.  It  was  a  wonderfully  beauti- 
ful  siglit  to  look  at  the  bright  blue  water  sparkling 
once  more  in  the  lisht,  as  if  in  restless  jrladness  after 
its  long  imprisonment,  the  richness  of  its  color  con- 
trasting strikingly  with  the  whiteness  of  the  ice 
which  floated  in  snowy  floes  to  the  south.  At  flrst 
there  was  only  the  broken  covering  of  the  river, 
but,  very  soon,  immense  quantities  of  ice  came  sail- 
ing down  from  the  U})per  Lakes,  jammed  together 
one  piece  on  another,  in  immense  heaps,  in  every 
variety  of  confusion,  the  upturned  edges  fringed 
with  prismatic  colors.  I  found  that  the  ])reparation 
for  this  grand  upbreaking  had  been  much  more 
complete  than  I  had  susj)ected,  from  looking  at  it 
from  a  distance ;  the  whole  of  what  had  appeared 
quite  solid  having  been  so  afl^'ected  by  the  sun, 
that,  whichever  way  yon  looked  at  it,  long  rows 
of  air-bubbles  showed  themselves  throuixh  it,  sliow- 
ing  that  there  was  little  power  left  in  it  to  resist 
any  outward  force.  The  final  ruj)ture,  though  ap- 
parently so  sudden,  had  been,  in  fact,  steadily  pro- 
gressing, until,  ai  last,  the  night's  storm  had  been 
sufficient  to  sweep  away  in  an  hour  what  had  pre- 
viou5.dy  stood  the  wildest  rage  of  winter.     1  have 


Depth  of  the  Frost. 


201 


often,  since,  thought  that  it  gave  a  very  good  illus- 
tration of  the  gradually  increasing  influence  of  all 
efforts  for  good,  and  of  their  certain  ultimate  triumph 
—  each  day's  faithful  work  doing  so  much  toward 
it,  though  the  progress  may  for  long  be  impercepti- 
ble, until  at  last,  when  we  hardly  expect  it,  the 
opposing  forces  give  way,  as  it  were,  at  cnce,  and 
forthwith  leave  only  a  scattered  and  retreating  wreck 
behind.  Gradual  preparation,  and  apparently  sud- 
den results,  are  the  law  in  all  things.  The  Refor- 
mation, though  accom})lished  as  if  at  a  blow,  had  been 
silently  made  possible  through  long  previous  gener- 
ations ;  and  when  the  idolaters  in  Tahiti  threw  away 
their  hideous  gods,  the  salutary  change  was  only 
effected  by  the  long-continued  labors  of  faithful 
missionaries  for  many  years  before  —  labors,  which, 
to  many,  must,  at  the  time,  have  seemed  fruitless 
and  vain. 

The  depth  to  which  the  frost  had  penetrated  the 
ground  was  amazing.  I  had  already  seen  proof  of 
its  being  pretty  deep,  on  the  occasion  of  a  grave 
having  to  be  dug  in  a  little  spot  of  ground  attached 
to  a  chapel  at  some  distance  from  us,  for  the  burial 
of  a  poor  neighbor's  wife  who  had  died.  The 
ground  was  deeply  covered  with  snow,  which  had 
to  be  cleared  away  before  they  could  begin  to  dig 
the  grave,  and  the  soil  was  then  found  to  be  so  hard 
that  it  had  to  be  broken  up  with  pickaxes.  Even 
in  that  earlier  part  of  the  winter  the  frost  was  near- 
ly two  feet  deep,  and  it  was  a  touching  thing  to  see 


m 


I 


In 


F'i 


^:'l 


202 


A  Grrave  in  Winter. 


tlie  frozen  lumps  of  earth  wliich  had  to  be  thrown 
down  on  the  coffin.  Any  thing  Hke  beating  tlie 
grave  smooth,  or  shaping  it  into  the  humble  mound 
which  is  so  familiar  to  us  at  home,  as  the  token  of 
a  form  like  our  own  lying  beneath,  was  impossible; 
there  could  only  be  a  rough  approach  to  it  till  spring 
should  come  to  loosen  the  iron-bound  earth. 
Strangely  enough,  there  were  two  funerals  from  the 
same  household  within  the  same  month,  and  the  two 
graves  were  made  side  by  side.  The  mother  had 
died  just  as  she  was  about  to  start  for  the  house  of 
her  daughter-in-law  who  was  ailing,  a  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  off,  and  the  object  of  her  beautiful 
tenderness  had  herself  died  before  the  same  month 
had  expired,  leaving  it  as  her  last  wish  that  she 
should  be  laid  beside  her  friend  who  had  departed 
so  lately.  It  was  now  the  depth  of  winter  —  the 
Arctic  cold  made  every  thing  like  rock  —  the 
sleigliing  was  at  its  best,  and  thus  the  journey  was 
made  comparatively  easy.  Laying  the  coffin  in  a 
long  sleigh  and  covering  it  with  straw,  and  taking 
a  woman  with  him  to  carry  a  young  infant  to  his 
friends  to  nurse,  the  husband  set  out  with  his  ghast- 
ly load.  There  was  no  fear  of  delaying  the  burial 
too  long,  for  the  corpse  was  frozen  stiff,  and  might 
have  been  kept  above  ground  for  weeks  without 
the  risk  of  its  thawing.  When  I  used  to  pass  after- 
wards in  summer  time,  the  two  graves,  which  were 
the  first  in  the  burial-ground,  wore  a  more  cheerful 
aspect  than  they  had  done  at  first ;  the  long  beauti- 


■.(■)' . 


M 


ti    ! 


Depth  of  the  Frost. 


208 


fill  gi*ass  waving  softly  over  them,  and  wild  flowers 
borne  thither  by  the  winds  or  by  birds,  mingling 
their  rich  colors  with  the  shades  of  green  around. 

I  think  the  soil  must  eventually  have  been  frozen 
at  least  a  yard  down,  if  we  may  judge  by  its  effects. 
Great  gate-posts  were  heaved  up  by  the  expansion 
of  the  earth,  when  the  thaw  turned  the  ice  into 
water ;  for,  though  ice  is  lighter  than  water,  it  forms 
a  solid  mass,  whereas  the  swelling  moisture  pushes 
the  particles  of  earth  apart.  I  have  seen  houses 
and  walls  cracked  from  top  to  bottom,  and  fences 
thrown  down,  from  the  same  cause ;  indeed,  it  is 
one  of  the  regularly  recurring  troubles  of  a  Canadian 
farmer's  year.  If  any  thing  is  to  stand  pennanently, 
the  foundations  must  be  sunk  below  the  reach  of  the 
frost.  It  is  very  much  better,  however,  in  Canada 
than  in  the  icy  wilderness  to  the  north  of  it.  Round 
Hudson's  Bay  the  soil  never  thaws  completely,  so 
that  if  you  thrust  a  pole  into  the  earth  in  the  warm 
season,  you  may  feel  the  frozen  ground  a  few  feet 
beneath.  It  is  wonderful  that  any  vegetation  can 
grow  under  such  circumstances,  but  the  heat  of  the 
sun  is  so  great,  that  even  over  the  everlasting  ice- 
bed,  some  crops  can  be  raised  in  the  short  fiery 
summer.  Indeed,  even  on  the  edge  of  the  great 
Arctic  Ocean,  along  the  coasts  of  Siberia,  and  on 
some  spots  of  the  American  shore,  the  earth  brought 
down  by  rivers  and  strewn  by  their  floods  over  tho 
hills  of  ice,  is  bright  with  vegetation  for  a  short  part 
of  each  year —  in  this  respect  not  unlike  stony  and 


204 


A  Ball, 


1 


?!l 


|!K;; 


■  ■  ■  ■; 


V   :■  ■  i 


ii-  ^1 


y 


'■  f  is 


\ 


m 


n\U 


U'V  '^ 


1   I 


cold  natures  wlilcli  have  yet,  over  tlieir  unmelting 
hardness,  an  etHorescence  of  good  —  tlie  skin  of 
virtue  spread,  as  old  Tliomas  Fuller  says,  like  a 
mask  over  the  face  of  vice. 

During  the  winter  a  great  ball  was  given  across 
the  river,  in  a  large  barn,  which  had  been  cleared  for 
the  purpose,  the  price  of  the  tickets  being  fixed  at 
a  dollar,  which  included  an  abundant  supper.  It 
was  intimated,  however,  that  those  who  had  no 
money  might  pay  in  "dicker" — a  Yankee  word 
for  barter ;  a  biuulle  of  shingles,  a  certain  number 
of  eijgs,  or  so  much  wei<i;ht  of  butter,  being  held 
equivalent  to  the  money,  and  securing  a  ticket.  I 
was  not  present  myself,  never  having  much  approv- 
ed of  these  mixed  parties,  but  the  young  folks  round 
were  in  a  state  of  great  excitement  about  it,  some 
of  them  coming  as  far  as  fifteen  miles  to  attend  it. 
They  went  past  m  sleigh  loads,  dashing  over  the 
ice  on  the  river  as  if  it  had  been  solid  jxround. 
The  girls  were,  of  course,  in  the  height  of  fashion, 
as  they  understood  it;  some  of  them  exposing  them- 
selves in  ridiculously  lioht  clothing  for  the  terrible 
season  of  the  year,  in  the  belief,  no  doubt,  that  it 
made  them  look  the  nicer.  Fashions  in  those  days 
did  not  travel  fast,  and  what  was  in  its  full  Horv 
on  the  river,  had  been  wellnigh  forgotten  where  it 
took  its  rise,  like  the  famous  Steenkirk  stock,  of 
which  Addison  says,  that  it  took  eleven  years  to 
travel  from  London  to  Newcastle.  The  taste 
ehown  was  often  very  praiseworthy,  but  sometimes, 


A  Holiday  Coat. 


205 


it  must  be  admitted,  a  little  out  of  tlie  way.  I  have 
seeu  girls  with  checked  or  figured  white  muslin 
dresses,  weariug  a  black  petticoat  underneath  to 
show  oti'  tlie  beauties  of  the  pattern ;  and  I  knew 
of  one  case  where  a  young  woman,  who  was  en- 
grossed in  the  awful  business  of  buying  her  wedding 
dress,  coukl  get  nothing  to  please  her  untd  she 
clianced  to  see,  hanging  up,  a  great  white  window 
curtain,  with  birds  and  flowers  all  over  it,  which  she 
instantly  pronounced  to  be  the  very  thing  she  want- 
ed, and  took  home  in  triumph !  There  was  one 
gentleman's  coat  on  the  river  which  might  have 
formed  a  curiosity  in  a  museum,  as  a  relic  of  days 
gone  by.  The  collar  stood  up  round  the  ears  in  such 
a  great  roll  that  the  shoulders  and  head  seemed  set 
on  each  otlier,  and,  as  to  the  tails,  they  crossed  each 
other  like  a  martin's  wings,  somewhere  about  the 
knees.  But  it  was  in  a  good  state  of  preservation, 
and,  for  aught  I  know,  may  be  the  holiday  pride  of 
its  owner  to  this  hour. 

It  took  a  week  or  two  for  the  last  fragments  of 
ice  to  disappear  from  the  river,  fresh  floes  coming 
down  day  after  day  from  the  lakes  beyond,  where 
spring  sets  in  later.  As  they  floated  past  I  often 
used  to  think  what  a  mercy  it  was,  that  while  water 
gets  heavier  as  it  grows  cold,  until  it  comes  to  the 
freezing-point,  it  becomes  lighter  the  moment  it  be- 
gins to  freeze,  and  thus  rises  to  the  surface,  to  form 

ice  there,  instead  of  at  the  bottom.     If  it  continued 

18 


f ' 


I  { 


206 


Wliy  Ice  floats. 


as  heavy  after,  as  it  was  immediately  before,  the 
rivers  and  lakes  would  speedily  become  solid  masses 
of  ice,  which  could  by  no  possibility  be  melted. 
The  arrangement  by  which  this  is  avoided,  is  a 
remarkable  illustration  of  the  Divine  wisdom,  and  a 
striking  proof  of  the  contrivance  and  design  which 
is  in  all  God's  works. 


)  ? 


.1 1 


Wild  Leeks. 


20T 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

Wild  leeks.  —  Spring  birds.  —  "Wilson's  poem  on  the  blue  bird.  — 
Downy  woodpeckers.  —  Passenger  pigeons.  —  Their  numbers. — 
Roosting  places.  —  'I1ie  frogs.  —  Bull  frogs.  —  Tree  frogs.  —  Fly- 
ing squirrels. 

BY  the  first  of  May  the  fields  were  beginning  to 
put  on  their  spring  beauty.  But  in  Canada, 
where  vegetation,  once  fairly  started,  makes  a  won- 
derfully rapid  progress,  it  is  not  like  that  of  England, 
where  spring  comes  down,  as  the  poet  tells  us  — 

"  Veiled  in  a  shower  of  shadowing  roses," 

and  a  long  interval  occurs  between  the  first  indica- 
tions of  returning  warmth,  and  tlie  fiiller  proof  of 
it  in  the  rejoicing  green  of  the  woods  and  earth. 
The  wild  leeks  in  the  bush  seemed  to  awaken  from 
their  winter's  sleep  earlier  than  most  other  things, 
as  we  found  to  our  cost,  by  the  cows  eating  them 
and  spoiling  their  milk  and  butter,  by  the  strong 
disagreeable  taste.  In  fact,  both  were  abominable 
for  weeks  together,  until  other  attractions  in  vaccine 
diet  had  superseded  those  of  the  leeks.  It  was  de- 
lightful to   look  at  the   runnels  of  crystal  water 


■i; 


11 


\w4f 


MM^Um 


208 


Spring  Birds. 


wimpling  down  the  furrows  as  the  sun  grew  strong ; 
the  tender  grass  beneath,  and  at  each  side,  showing 
througli  the  quivering  flow  like  a  frame  of  emerald. 
The  iireat  buds  of  the  chestnuts  and  those  of  other 
trees  grew  daily  larger,  and  shone  in  the  thick  wa- 
terproof-coatings with  whi(;h  they  had  been  protected 
througli  the  winter.  Small  green  snakes,  too,  began 
to  glide  about  after  their  long  torpidity  ;  the  wild 
fowl  reappeared  in  long  flights  high  overhead,  on 
their  way  to  their  breeding-places  in  the  far  north  ; 
the  reed-sparrows  in  their  rich  black  plumage,  with 
scarlet  shoulders  fading  off  to  yellow ;  the  robin, 
resembling  his  English  namesake  only  m  the  name, 
as  lie  belongs  to  the  family  of  thrushes  in  Canada ; 
the  squirrels  in  their  beautiful  coats,  with  their 
great  bushy  tails  and  large  eyes,  stirring  in  every 
direction  through  the  trees,  and  every  little  while 
proclaiming  their  presence  by  a  sound  which  I  can 
only  comjiare  to  the  whirr  of  a  broken  watch-spring ; 
the  frogs  beginning  to  send  up  their  thousand  croaks 
from  every  standing  pool  —  all  things,  indeed,  in 
the  animal  and  veijetable  world  showino;  simis  of 
joy,  heralded  the  flowery  summer  that  was  advanc- 
ing toward  us. 

The  darling  little  blue-bird,  the  herald  of  spring, 
had  already  come  to  gladden  us  while  the  snow  was 
yet  on  the  ground,  flitting  about  the  barn  and  the 
fence-posts,  and,  after  we  had  an  orchard,  about  the 
apple-trees,  of  which  it  chiefly  consisted.  About 
the  middle  of  March  he  and  his  mate  might  be  seen 


Wilson^s  Poem  on  the  Blue  Bird. 


209 


visiting  tlie  box  in  tlio  garden,  ^vllere  lie  had  kept 
liouse  the  year  before,  or,  in  j)hices  wlierc  the  or- 
cliards  were  old,  looking  at  the  hole  in  the  apple- 
tree  where  his  family  had  lived  in  preceding 
summers.  He  had  come  to  be  ready  for  the  first 
apj)earance  of  the  insects  on  which  cliiefly  he  feeds, 
and,  by  killing  whole  myriads  of  which,  he  proves 
himself  one  of  the  best  friends  of  the  farmer. 
There  is  a  poem  of  Alexander  Wilson,  the  Ameri- 
can ornithologist,  about  the  blue-bird,  which  tells 
the  whole  story  of  a  Canada  spring  so  admirably, 
and  is  so  little  known,  that  I  cannot  resist  the  pleas- 
ure of  quoting  part  of  it. 


"  When  winter's  cold  tempests  and  snows  are  no  more, 

Green  meadows  and  brown  furrowed  fields  reappearing, 
The  fishermen  haulinrj  their  shad  to  the  shore, 

And  cloud-i'leaving  geese  to  the  lakes  are  a-steering; 
When  first  tlie  lone  butterfly  flits  on  the  wing, 

When  glow  the  red  maples,  so  fresh  and  so  pleasing, 
Oh,  then  comes  tlie  blue-bird,  the  herald  of  spring, 

And  hails  with  his  warblings  the  charms  of  the  season. 

"  Then  loud-piping  frogs  make  the  marshes  to  ring. 

Then  warm  glows  the  sunsliine  and  fine  is  the  weather ; 
The  blue  woodland  flowers  just  begiiming  to  spring, 

And  spice  wood  and  sassafras  budding  together. 
O  then  to  your  gardens,  ye  housewives  repair, 

Your  walks  border  up,  sow  and  plant  at  your  leisure. 
The  blue-bird  will  chant  from  his  box  such  an  air, 

That  all  your  hard  toils  will  seem  truly  a  pleasure. 

"  He  flits  through  the  orchard,  he  visits  each  tree. 

The  red-flowering  peach,  and  the  apple's  sweet  blos-soms 
18* 


210  Doivny  Woodpeckers. 

He  snaps  up  destroyers  wherever  they  be, 
And  seizes  the  taitiH's  timt  huk  in  their  hosornfl  ; 

He  drags  tlic  vile  gnih  from  the  eorn  he  devours, 

The  worms  from  their  heds,  where  they  riot  and  welter; 

His  song  and  liis  services  freely  are  ours, 
And  all  that  he  asks  is,  in  summer,  a  shelter. 

"  The  ploughman  is  pleased  when  he  gleans  in  his  tram, 

Now  seivrciiiiig  the  furrows,  now  mounting  to  cheer  him  ; 
The  gardener  delights  in  his  sweet,  simjde  strain. 

And  leans  on  his  spade  to  survey  and  to  hear  him  ; 
The  slow  ling'ring  schoolboys  forget  they'll  be  chid, 

While  gazing  intent  as  he  warbles  before  'era 
In  mantle  of  sky-blue,  and  bosom  so  red. 

That  each  little  wanderer  seems  to  adore  him." 


,.:l 


li 


; 


The  mention  of  the  blue-bird's  activity  in  destroy- 
ing insects  brings  to  my  mind  my  old  friends,  the 
woodpeckers,  once  more.  In  John  Courtenay's 
orchard,  which  was  an  old  one,  several  of  these 
birds  built  every  season,  hovering  about  the  place 
the  whole  year,  as  they  are  among  the  very  few 
Canadian  birds  that  do  not  migrate.  He  showed 
me,  one  day,  the  oe?s.  of  one  of  the  species  called 
"  Downy,"  in  an  .>1  i  apple-tree.  A  hole  had  been 
cut  in  the  body  of  the  tree,  as  round  as  if  it  had 
been  marked  out  by  a  carpenter's  compasses,  about 
six  or  eight  inches  deep  in  a  slanting  direction,  and 
then  ten  or  twelve  more  perpendicularly,  the  top  of 
it  only  large  enough  to  let  the  parents  in  and  out, 
but  the  bottom  apparently  quite  roomy,  for  the 
young  family.  As  far  as  I  could  see,  it  was  as 
smootli  as  a  man  could  have  made  it,  and  I  was  as- 


Doivny  Woodpeckers. 


211 


Bured  that  it  was  tlio  same  in  every  part.  It  ap 
pears  that  these  birds  are  as  cunning  as  tliey  are 
clever  at  tliis  art,  tlie  two  old  ones  regularly  carry 
ing  out  all  the  chips  as  they  are  made,  and  strewing 
them  about  aj  a  considerable  distance  from  the  nest, 
so  as  to  j)revent  suspicion  of  its  |)resence.  Six  pure 
white  eggs,  laid  on  the  smooth  bottom  of  their  curi- 
ous abode,  mark  the  number  of  each  year's  family, 
the  female  bird  sitting  closely  on  them  while  they 
are  being  hatched,  her  husband,  meanwhile,  busying 
himself  in  supplying  her  with  choice  grubs,  that  she 
may  want  for  nothing  in  her  voluntary  imprison- 
ment. The  little  woodpeckers  make  their  first  ap- 
pearance about  the  middle  of  June,  when  one  may 
see  them  climbing  the  bark  of  the  tree  as  well  as 
they  can,  as  if  practising  before  they  finally  set  out 
in  life  for  themselves.  I  had  often  wondered  at  the 
appearance  of  the  bark  in  many  of  the  apple  and 
pear-trees,  which  seemed  as  if  some  one  had  fired 
charges  of  shot  into  them  ;  but  it  w  as  long  before  I 
knew  the  real  cause.  It  appears  that  it  is  the  work 
of  the  woodpeckers,  and  many  farmers  consequently 
think  the  poor  birds  highly  injurious  to  their  or- 
chards. But  there  are  no  real  grounds  for  such  an 
opinion,  for  no  mischief  is  done  by  these  punctures, 
numerous  though  they  be.  I  have  always  remarked 
that  the  trees  which  were  perforated  most  seemed 
most  thriving,  no  doubt  because  the  birds  had  de- 
stroyed the  insects  which  otherwise  would  have 
injured  them.     The  autumn  and  winter  is  the  great 


1  i 


m 


m" 


li  >  u  ■ 


iU 


iii-i  i 


^.■! 


^ST       1:      '* 


¥i\'\  Hi,* 


'  ill  (! 


212 


Boicny  Woodpeckers. 


time  for  their  <)})eriitions,  aiul  it  is  precisely  the  time 
when  the  i)reservati()ii  of  the  fruit,  in  the  coming 
sunnner,  can  he  hest  secured.  Curious  us  it  may 
seem  that  siich  a  rithlling  of  the  bark  can  be  bene- 
ficial to  the  tree,  it  evidently  is  sg.  From  the 
ground  to  where  the  branches  fork  olf,  there  is  often 
hardly  an  inch  of  the  bark  which  does  not  bear  the 
mark  of  some  grub-hunt,  and  scmietimes  eight  or 
ten  of  them  might  be  covered  by  a  penny.  Farm- 
ers, however,  rarely  philosophize,  and  no  wonder 
that  in  this  case  they  regard  as  prejudicial  what  is 
really  a  benefit.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are 
correct  enouo-h  as  to  the  habits  of  some  of  tlie  wood- 
peckers,  for  greater  thieves  than  the  red-headed 
ones,  at  some  seasons,  can  hardly  be  found.  The 
little  rascals  devour  fruit  of  all  kinds  as  it  ri})ens, 
completely  stripping  the  trees,  if  ])ermitted.  In 
fact,  they  have  a  liking  for  all  good  things  ;  they 
are  sure  to  pick  the  finest  strawberries  from  your 
beds,  and  have  no  less  relish  for  apples,  peaches, 
cherries,  plums,  and  ])ears  ;  Indian  corn,  also,  is  a 
favorite  dish  with  them,  while  it  is  still  milky.  Nor 
do  these  little  plagues  keep  to  vegetable  diet  exclu- 
sively ;  the  eggs  in  the  nests  of  small  birds  are  never 
passed  by  in  their  search  lor  delicacies.  One  can't 
wonder,  therefore,  that,  with  such  plundering  pro- 
pensities, they  should  lose  their  lives  pretty  often. 

The  flocks  of  pigeons  that  come  in  the  early 
spring  are  wonderful.  They  fly  together  in  bodies 
of  many  thousands,  perching,  as  close  as  tliey  can 


Passenjcr  Pitjcons. 


213 


settle,  n  t}t%.  trees  wlieu  they  alight^  or  covering 
the  ground  (  rer  hirge  spaces  wlien  i'eecling.  The 
first  tidings  ot  tlieir  approach  is  the  signal  for  every 
available  gun  to  be  brought  into  requisition,  at  once 
to  procure  a  supply  of  fresh  food,  and  to  })rotect  the 
crops  on  the  Helds,  winch  the  pigeons  would  utterly 
destroy  if  they  were  allowed.  It  is  singular  how 
little  sense,  or  perhaps  fear,  such  usually  timid 
birds  have  when  collected  together  in  numbers. 
I  have  heard  of  one  man  who  was  out  shooting 
them,  and  had  crept  close  to  one  flock,  when  theu' 
leaders  took  a  fancy  to  Hy  directly  over  him,  ahr.-^st 
close  tc  the  ground,  to  his  no  small  terror.  Thou- 
sands brushed  past  him  so  close  as  to  make  him 
alarme(^  for  his  eyes  ;  and  the  stream  still  kept  pour- 
inoj  on  after  he  had  discharjxed  his  barrels,  right  and 
left,  into  it,  until  nothing  remained  but  to  throw 
himself  on  !:is  ice  till  the  whole  had  flown  over 
him.  They  do  not,  liowever,  come  to  any  Jiart  of 
Canad;  \.'.'t]:  which  1  am  acquainted  in  such  amaz- 
ing mmibrrs  i«s  are  said  by  Wilson  •  '  Audubon  to 
visit  the  western  United  States.  The  latter  natu- 
ralist left  his  house  at  Henderson,  on  the  Ohio,  in 
the  autumn  of  1813,  on  his  vvav  to  Louisville,  and 
on  passing  the  Barrens,  a  few  iuih^s  beyond  Hardens- 
burgh,  observed  the  pigeonj  tly'/ig  from  north-east 
to  south-west  in  suc3i  iiuir'iers,  that  he  thought  he 
would  try  tocalculale  li'^^y  mj/»y  there  really  were. 
Dismounting,  and  seaij.io  inmself  on  a  knoll,  he 
began  making  a  dot  in  his  viote-book  for  every  flock 


'  fi 


si 

i'Sf 


I 


I 


' 


V  "1  f 


,! 


I 

h 

i 

1 1. 


!«  '- 


v\\ 


H 


1    I 


'  '1 '   'l  3 


I  ^    . 


:  ;  «ip 


III'     'I 


II 


1 
1 

,i      V 

'  1    '  : 

! 

1^ 

t 

i 

214 


^/^6;iV  Nwmhers. 


that  passed,  but  in  a  short  time  liad  to  give  up  the 
attempt,  as  he  had  already  put  down  a  Imndre^^  and 
sixty-three  in  twenty-one  minutes,  and  they  still 
poured  on  in  countless  multitudes.  The  air  was 
literally  filled  with  pigeons;  the  light  of  noon-day 
was  obscured  as  if  by  an  eclipse,  and  the  continued 
buzz  of  wings  produced  an  inclination  to  drow  "  aess. 
When  he  reached  Louisville,  a  distance  of  t  icv-five 
miles,  the  pigeons  were  still  passing  in  unabated 
numbers,  and  continued  to  do  so  for  three  days  in 
succession.  He  calculated  that,  if  two  pigeons 
were  allowed  for  each  square  yard,  the  number  in 
a  single  flock  —  and  that  not  a  large  one,  extending 
one  mile  in  breadth  and  a  hundred  and  eighty  in 
length  —  could  not  be  less  than  one  billion,  one 
hundred  and  fifteen  millions,  one  hundred  and 
thirty-six  thousand !  The  food  required  for  such  a 
countless  host  passes  our  power  to  realize  clearly, 
for,  at  half  a  pint  a  day,  which  is  hardly  as  much 
as  a  pigeon  consumes,  they  would  eat,  in  a  single 
dav,  eio-ht  millions,  seven  hundred  and  twelve 
thousand  bushels.  To  get  such  supplies  from  cul- 
tivated fields  would,  of  course,  be  impossible,  and  it 
is  fortunate  that  they  hardly  ever  attempt  it,  their 
principal  support  being  the  vast  quantities  of  beech- 
mast  which  the  unlimited  expanse  ot  unbroken 
forest  supplies. 

A  curious  fact  respecting  them  is  that  they  have 
fixed  roosting-places,  from  wh'ch  lui  disturbance 
appears  able  to  drive  them,  and  to  these  they  resort 


'f^. 
^ 


Hoosting-places. 


215 


I  '11 


night  by  night,  however  far  they  may  have  to  fly 
to  obtain  food  on  the  returning  day.  One  of  them, 
in  Kentucky,  M'as  repeatedly  visited  by  Audubon, 
who  found  that  it  was  about  forty  miles  in  length 
by  three  in  breadth.  A  fortnight  after  the  pigeons 
had  chosen  it  for  the  season,  he  found  that  a  great 
number  of  persons,  with  horses  and  wagons,  guns 
and  ammunition,  had  already  established  themselves 
on  its  borders.  Herds  of  hogs  had  been  driven  up 
to  fatten  on  a  portion  of  those  which  might  be 
killed.  Some  of  the  visitors  were  busy  plucking 
and  salting  what  had  been  already  procured,  huge 
piles  of  them  lying  on  each  side  of  their  seats. 
Manv  trees  two  feet  in  diameter  were  broken  off  at 
no  great  distance  from  the  ground  by  the  weight  of 
tlie  multitudes  that  had  lighted  on  them  ;  and  huge 
branches  had  given  way,  as  if  the  forest  had  been 
s.vept  by  a  tornado.  As  the  hour  of  their  anival 
approached,  every  preparation  was  made  to  receive 
them :  iron  pots,  containing  sulphur,  torches  of 
pine-knots,  poles  and  guns,  being  got  ready  for  use 
the  moment  they  came.  Shortly  after  sunset  the 
cry  arose  that  they  were  come  at  last.  The  noise 
they  made,  though  yet  distant,  was  like  that  of  a 
hard  gale  at  sea,  when  it  passes  through  the  rigging 
of  a  closely-reefed  vessel.  Thousands  were  soon 
knocked  down  by  the  polemen  ;  the  birds  continued 
to  pour  in ;  the  fires  were  lighted ;  and  a  magni- 
ficent as  well  as  wonderful  and  almost  terrifying 
sight  presented  itself.     Th'  pigeons,  arriving   by 


nil 


I  • 


fffl^T 


:  > 


216 


Moosting-plxces. 


tliousands,  alighterl  everywhere,  one  above  another, 
until  solid  masses  as  large  as  hogslieads  were  formed 
on  the  branches  all  round.  Here  and  there  tlie 
perches  gave  way,  and  falling  on  the  ground  with 
a  crash,  destroyed  hundreds  of  the  birds  ben<'ath, 
fov?ir)or  down  the  dense  groups  with  which  every 
spot  us  loaded.  The  pigeons  were  constantly 
coming,  and  it  was  past  midnight  before  he  per- 
ceived a  decrease  in  their  number.  Before  day- 
light they  had  begun  again  to  move  off,  and  by 
sunrise  all  were  gone.  This  is  Audubon's  account. 
I  myself  have  killed  thirteen  at  a  shot,  fired  at  a 
venture  into  a  flock  ;  and  my  sister  Margaret  killed 
two  one  day  by  simply  throwing  up  a  stick  she  had 
in  her  hand  as  they  swept  past  at  a  point  where 
we  had  told  her  to  stand,  in  order  to  frighten  them 
into  the  open  ground,  that  we  might  have  a  better 
chance  of  shooting  them.  I  have  seen  bagfuls  of 
them  that  had  been  killed  by  no  more  formidable 
weapons  than  poles  swung  right  and  left  at  them 
as  they  flew  close  past.  The  rate  at  which  they 
fly  is  wonderful,  and  has  been  computed  at  about 
a  mile  a  minute,  at  which  rate  they  keep  on  for 
hours  together,  darting  forward  with  rapid  beats 
of  their  wings  very  much  as  our  ordinary  pigeons 
do. 

The  frogs  were  as  great  a  source  of  amusement 
to  us  as  the  pigeons  were  of  excitement.  Wher- 
ever there  was  a  spot  of  water,  thence,  by  night  and 
day,  came  their  chorus,  the  double  bass  of  the  bull- 


Bull  Frogs. 


217 


fro2S  strikino;  in  every  now  and  then  amidst  the  in- 
describable  l)il)ing  of  the  multitudes  of  their  smaller 
brethren.  It  is  very  difficult  to  catch  a  sij^ht  of 
these  bassoon  performers,  as  they  s})ring  into  the 
water  at  the  slightest  approach  of  danger  ;  yet  you 
may  now  and  then  come  on  them  basking  at  the 
side  of  a  pond  or  streamlet,  their  great  goggle  eyes 
and  black  skin  making  them  look  very  grotesque. 
They  are  great  thieves  in  their  own  proper  element, 
many  a  duckling  vanishing  from  its  mother's  side 
by  a  sudden  snap  of  some  one  of  these  solemn  gen- 
tlemen below.  They  are  a  hungry  race,  always 
ready  apparently  for  what  they  can  g^t,  and  making 
short  work  with  small  fishes,  all  kinds  of  small  rep- 
tiles, and  even,  I  believe,  the  lesser  kinds  of  snakes, 
when  they  can  get  them.  These  fellows  are  the 
giants  of  the  frog  tribes,  and  portly  gentlemen 
withal,  some  of  them  weighing  very  nearly  a  pound. 
The  shrill  croak  of  the  other  fro<2s  is  like  nothincr 
else  that  I  ever  heard  :  it  is  a  sort  of  trill  of  two  or 
three  notes,  as  if  coming  through  water,  and  it  rises 
from  so  many  throats  at  once  that  it  may  be  said  ' 
never  for  a  moment  to  cease.  There  is  a  kind  of 
frog  which  lives  on  the  branches  of  trees,  catching 
the  insects  on  the  leaves  —  a  beautiful  little  crea- 
ture, of  so  nicely  shaded  a  green  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  detect  it  even  when  you  are  close  to 
it.  Henry  and  I  were  one  day  at  work  in  the  early 
summer  near  a  young  maple,  in  the  back  part  of 
the  farm,  and  could  hardly  keep  up  conversation 

^8 


'3 


%  n 


1^^^^ 


218 


Tree  Frogs. 


i' 


) 


for  the  liissing  trill  of  a  number  of  tliem  on  it ,  but 
though  the  tree  was  so  near  us,  we  could  not,  by  all 
our  looking,  discover  any  of  the  invisible  minstrels. 
At  last  the  tliino;  bt  ame  so  ludicrous  that  we  deter- 
mined,  if  possible,  to  get  a  sight  of  one  ;  and  as  the 
lower  branches  began  at  about  our  own  height,  one 
of  us  went  to  the  one  side,  and  the  other  to  the 
vdier,  to  watch.  Trill  —  trill — bubble  —  bubble 
—  bubble  —  rose  all  around  us,  but  no  other  signs 
•  r  the  warblers.  We  looked  and  laughed,  laughed 
and  looked  again  ;  the  sound  was  within  a  yai>d  of 
us,  yet  nothing  could  be  seen.  When  almost  giv- 
ing up,  however,  I  chanced  to  look  exactly  on  the 
spot  where  one  was  making  his  little .  throat  swell 
to  get  out  another  set  of  notes,  and  the  rise  and  fall 
of  its  breast  at  once  discovered  its  presence.  Hen- 
ry was  at  my  side  in  a  moment,  and  we  could  both 
see  it  plainly  enough,  of  course,  when  our  eyes  had 
once  fairly  distinguished  it  from  the  gi'een  around. 
It  continued  to  sit  unmoved  on  its  leaf,  and  we  did 
not  disturb  it. 

One  morning  we  came  upon  a  beautiful  little 
creature  which  had  been  killed  by  some  means,  and 
lay  in  the  yard  near  the  barn.  It  was  evidently  a 
squirrel,  but  differed  from  the  ordinary  species  in 
one  curious  particular.  Instead  of  having  its  legs 
free  like  those  of  other  squirrels,  a  long  stretch  of 
fur  extended  from  the  front  to  the  back  legs  so  as 
to  form  something  like  wings  when  spread  out.  It 
Was  a  flying  squirrel,  a  kind  not  so  common  as  the 


'  V 


w 


Flying  Squirrels. 


219 


others,  and  coming  out  mostly  by  niglit.  These 
extraordinary  appendages  at  tlieir  sides  are  used  by 
them  to  sustain  them  in  enormous  leaps  which  they 
make  from  branch  to  branch,  or  from  one  tree  to 
another.  Trusting  to  them  they  dart  hither  and 
thither  with  wonderful  swiftness  ;  indeed,  it  is  hard 
for  the  eye  to  follow  their  movements.  What  most 
struck  me  in  tliis  unusual  development  was  the  evi- 
dent approach  it  made  towards  the  characteristic  of 
birds,  being  as  it  were  a  link  between  the  form  of 
an  ordinary  quadruped  and  that  of  a  bat,  and  stand- 
ing in  the  same  relation  to  the  wing  of  the  latter  as 
that  does  to  the  wing;  of  a  bird.  It  is  sinmilar  how 
one  class  of  creatures  merges  into  another  in  every 
department  of  animal  life.  Indeed,  it  is  puzzling 
at  times  to  distinguish  between  veo;etable  and  ani- 
mal  structures,  where  the  confines  of  the  two  king- 
doms join,  as  the  word  zoophyte,  which  really  means 
"  a  living  plant,"  sufficiently  shows.  Then  there 
is  a  caterpillar  in  New  Zealand  out  of  whose  back, 
at  a  certain  stage  of  its  growth,  springs  a  kind  of  fun- 
gus, which  gradually  drinks  up  the  whole  juices  of 
the  insect  and  destroys  it ;  but  this  is  not  so  much  an 
approximation  of  two  different  orders  as  an  acci- 
dental union.  There  are,  however,  many  cases  of 
interlinking  in  the  different  "families"  into  which 
life  is  divided,  the  study  of  which  is  exceedingly 
curious  and  interesting. 


■  *.'■♦;■ 


t 


I 


V  ''  I 


i   'a 


t-'i 


m. 


im> 


X 


'5^  ■<-  .■'■. 


a- 

I. 


220 


Our  Spring  Croys. 


i.'t 


'<i> 


Our  spring  crops. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

Indian  corn.  —  Pumpkins.  —  Melons.  —  Fi  uits 
—  Wild  flowers. 


THE  first  thing  we  thought  of,  when  the  spring 
had   fairly  set   in,  was  to  get   spring  wheat, 
potatoes,  Indian  corn,  pumpkins,  oats,  and   other 
crops  into  the  ground.     Our  potatoes  were  man- 
aged in  a  very  primitive  way,  in  a  patch  of  newly- 
cleared  ground,  the  surface  of  which,  with  a  good 
deal  more,  we  had  to  burn  off  before  it  could  be 
tilled.     A  heavy  hoe  was  the  only  implement  used, 
a  stroke  or  two  with  it  sufficing  to  make  a  hole  for 
the  potato  cuttings,  and  two  or  three  more  to  drag 
the  earth  over  them,  so  as  to  form  a  "  hill.'"     These 
we  made  at   about  eighteen  inches  apart,  putting 
three  or  four  pumpkin  seeds  in  every  third  hill  of 
the  alternate  rows.     The  Indian  corn  was  planted 
m  the  same  way,  in  hills  more  than  a  yard  apart, 
pumpkin  seeds  being  put  in  with  it  also.     It  is  my 
favorite  of  all  the  beautiful  plants  of  Canada.     A 
field  of  it,  when  at  its  finest,  is,  I  think,  as  charm- 
ing a  sight  as  could  well  invite  the  eye.     Rising 
higher  than  the  height  of  a  man,  its  great  jointed 


Pumpkins . 


221 


stems  are  crested  at  the  top  by  a  long  waving  plume 
of  purple,  wJiile  from  the  upper  end  of  each  head 
of  the  grain  there  waves  a  long  tassel  resembling 
pale  green  silk.  It  is  grown  to  a  large  extent  in 
Canada,  but  it  is  most  cultivated  in  the  Western 
United  States,  many  farmers  on  the  prairies  there 
growing  a  great  many  acres  of  it.  It  is  used  in  many 
ways.  When  still  unripe  it  is  full  of  delicious  milky 
juice,  which  makes  it  a  delicacy  for  the  table  when 
boiled.  The  ripe  corn  makes  excellent  meal  for 
cakes,  etc.,  and  is  the  best  food  for  pigs  or  poultry, 
while  the  stalks  make  excellent  fodder  for  cattle. 
The  poor  Indians  grow  a  little  corn  when  they 
grow  nothing  else.  You  may  see  the  long  strings 
of  ears  plaited  together  by  the  tough  wrappings 
round  each,  and  hung  along  poles  round  their  wig- 
wams to  dry  for  winter  use.  They  have  been  in 
possession  of  it  no  one  can  tell  how  long.  When 
the  M^yjllower  anchored,  with  the  Pilgrim  Fa- 
thers, at  Plymouth  Bay,  in  Massachusetts,  in  1620, 
they  found  hoards  of  it  buried  for  safety  in  the 
woods  around,  the  Indians  having  taken  this  plan 
to  conceal  it  from  them. 

The  size  of  the  pumpkins  is  sometimes  enormous. 
I  have  known  them  so  large  that  one  would  fill  a 
wheelbarrow,  and  used  often  to  think  of  a  piece  of 
rhyme  I  learned  when  a  boy,  in  which  it  was  pointed 
out  what  a  mercy  it  was  that  they  grew  on  the 

ground  rather  than  aloft,  acorns  being  quite  heavy 

19* 


•rs 


222 


Melons. 


h-f^ 


m\f 


<:  t 


ii  ii 


il't'i  'i:^ 


\-^Mvi 


m 


n. 


S'-i:'' 


•'     '• 


Ii 


im 


'•■  I  ! 


1   ;  ., 


n 


f 


enougli  In  windy  weather.*  They  are  used  in  great 
quantities  for  "  pumpkin  pie,"  as  the  Canadians 
call  it  —  a  preparation  of  sweetened  pumpkin  spread 
over  paste.  They  use  them  in  this  way,  not  only 
while  fresh,  but  cut  a  great  many  into  thin  slices  and 
dry  them,  that  they  may  have  this  dessert  in  winter 
as  well  as  summer.  They  are  excellent  food  for 
pigs  and  cattle  when  broken  into  manageable  pieces 
for  them.  I  don't  think  any  thing  grew  with  us 
better  than  beets  and  carrots,  the  latter  especially. 
A  farmer  in  our  neighborhood,  who  was  partial  to 
their  growth  for  the  sake  of  his  horses  and  cattle, 
beat  us,  however,  in  the  quantity  raised  on  a  given 
space,  having  actually  gathered  at  the  rate  of  thir- 
teen hundred  bushels  per  acre  of  carrots.  We  had 
a  carrot  show  some  years  after  in  the  neighboring 
township,  at  which  this  fact  was  state  1,  and  its 
accuracy  fairly  established  by  the  fact  of  others 
having  gathered  at  the  rate  of  as  many  as  eleven 
hundred  bushels  per  acre.  I  remember  the  meeting 
chiefly  from  the  assertion  of  an  Irishman  present, 
who  would  not  allow  that  any  thing  in  Canada 
could  surpass  its  counterpart  in  his  native  island, 
and  maintained  that  these  carrots  were  certainly 
very  good,  but  that  they  were  nothing  to  one  which 
was  grown  near  Cork,  which  was  no  less  than  eight 
feet  nine  inches  in  length  ! 

A  variety  of  melons  formed  one  of  the  novelties 

*  Le  Gland  et  la  Citroaille :  Fables  de  La  Fontaine,  B.  ix.  4. 


Fruits. 


223 


we  ixrew  after  tlie  first  season.  We  had  nothing 
to  do  but  put  them  in  the  ground  and  keep  them 
free  from  weeds,  when  they  began  to  "  run  "  —  as 
tliey  did,  far  and  near,  over  the  ground.  It  was  an 
easy  way  to  get  a  luxury,  for  some  of  tliem  are  very 
dehcious,  and  all  are  very  refreshing  in  tlie  sultry 
heat  of  summer.  They  grow  in  every  part  of 
Canada  in  great  luxuriance,  and  without  any  thing 
like  a  preparation  of  the  soil.  Indeed,  I  once  saw 
a  great  fellow  of  an  Indian  planting  some,  which 
would  doubtless  grow  well  enough,  with  his  toes  — 
pushing  aside  earth  enough  to  receive  the  seeds,  and 
then,  with  another  motion  of  his  foot,  covering  them 
up.  Cucumbers  grew  in  surprising  numbers  from 
a  very  small  quantity  of  seed,  and  we  had  a  castor- 
oil  plant  and  some  plants  of  red  pepper  before  our 
doors.  We  had  not  very  much  time  at  first  to 
attend  to  a  vegetable  garden,  and  therefore  contented 
ourselves  with  a  limited  range  of  that  kind  of  com- 
forts, but  it  was  not  the  fault  of  the  soil  or  climate, 
for  in  no  place  of  which  I  know  d  >  tie  various 
bounties  of  the  garden  grow  more  freely  than  in 
Canada.  Cabbages,  cauliflower,  brocoli,  peas, 
French  beans,  spinach,  onions,  turnips,  carrots, 
l)arsnips,  radishes,  lettuces,  beet,  asparagus,  celery, 
rhubarb,  tomatoes,  cucinnbers,  and  I  know  not 
V.  liat  else,  need  only  be  sown  or  planted  to  yield  a 
Ituuntiful  return. 

As  to  fruits,  we  had,  for  years,  to  buy  all  we 
'ised,  or  to  gather  it  in  ihe  woods,  but  it  was  very 


I' '  r 


>     4 


;^ '.',) 


.*«:■ 


224 


Fruits. 


:!f  ? 


m\ 


ifl: 


iiiii 


0^ 


:  4-  J-^ 

5  ' 


IM 


■<     ! 


il 

tt  Ipii  ill 


I'lieap  wlicn  bouojlit,  nnd  easily  procured  wl)  gath- 
ered. Apples  of  a  size  and  flavor  almost  peculiar 
to  America,  pears,  plums,  cherries,  raspberries,  cur- 
rants, and  strawberries,  <»;row  everywhere  in  amaz- 
ing abundance.  Peaches  of  the  sunniest  beauty 
and  most  delicate  flavor  are  at  times  in  some  dis- 
tricts almost  as  j)leutit'ul  as  potatoes  ;  but  we  never 
managed  to  get  any  from  our  orchard,  want  of 
knowledge  on  our  ]  art  having  sjioiled  our  first  trees, 
which  we  never  afterwards  cxcliauiied  for  others. 
But  on  the  Nia<!;ara  Uiver  1  liave  known  t'  \  sell 
for  a  shilling  a  bushel,  &.nd  every  laborer  j  met 
"would  be  devouring  them  by  the  half-dozen.  A 
gentleman,  within  a  few  miles  of  us,  took  a  fancy  to 
cultivate  grapes  as  extensively  as  he  could  in  the 
open  air,  and  succeeded  so  well  that  lie  told  me 
before  I  left  that  he  hafl  sold  a  year's  crop  for  about 
a  hundred  pounds.  If  we  had  had  as  much  shrewd- 
ness as  we  ought  to  have  had,  we  should  liave 
begun  the  culture  of  fiuit  rather  than  of  mere  farm 
produce,  and  I  feel  sure  it  would  have  paid  us  far 
better.  But  people,  coming  fresh  to  a  country,  take 
a  long  time  to  learn  what  is  best  for  them  to  do, 
and  when  tliey  have  learned,  have  too  often  no 
sufficient  means  of  turning  to  it,  or,  perhaps,  no 
leisure,  while  many,  through  disappointed  hopes, 
lose  their  spirit  and  energy. 

The  wild  fruits  we  found  to  be  as  various  as  the 
cultivated  kinds,  and  some  of  them  were  very  good. 
The  wild  cherries  were  abundant  in  our  bush,  and 


Wild  Flowers. 


225 


did  excellently  for  preserves.  Goosebemes,  small, 
•with  a  rou<i;]»  prickly  skin  and  of  a  poor  flavor,  were 
often  brought  by  tlie  Indians  to  barter  for  pork  or 
flour.  Raspberries  and  strawberries  covered  the 
oi)en  places  at  the  roadsides,  and  alontrthe  banks  of 
*'  creeks  ;  "  and  whortleberries  and  blueberries, 
black  and  red  currants,  juniper  berries,  plums  and 
hazel  nuts,  were  never  far  distant.  We  used  to 
gather  large  quantities  ourselves,  and  the  Indians 
were  constantly  coming  with  pailfuls  in  the  season. 
It  is  one  of  the  beneficent  arrangements  of  Provi- 
dence, that,  in  a  climate  so  exceedingly  hot  in  sum- 
mer, there  should  be  such  a  profusion  of  fruits  and 
vegetables  within  the  reach  of  all,  adding  not  only 
to  comfort,  but  diffusing  enjoyment,  and  exerting, 
also,  a  salutary  influence  upon  health. 

What  shall  I  say  of  the  wild  flowers  which  burst 
out  as  the  year  advanced?  In  open  places,  the 
woods  were  well  nigh  carpeted  with  them,  and 
clearings  that  had,  for  whatever  reason,  been  for  a 
time  abandoned,  soon  showed  like  gardens  with 
their  varied  colors.  The  scarlet  lobelia,  the  blue 
lupin,  gentian,  columbine,  violets  in  countless 
variety,  honeysuckles,  flinging  their  fragant  flowers 
in  long  tresses  from  the  trees,  campanula,  harebell, 
balsams,  asters,  calceolarias,  the  snowy  lily  of  the 
valley,  and  clouds  of  wild  roses,  are  only  a  few 
from  the  list.  Varieties  of  mint,  with  beautiful 
flowers,  adorned  the  sides  of  streams  or  the  open 
meadows,  and,  resting  in  a  floating  meadow  of  its 


i 

m\ 

!| 

1: 

,i 
j 

V 

' 


226 


TJie  "  Bitter  Sweet:' 


own  green  leaves,  on  the  still  water  of  the  river- 
bencls,  or  of  the  creeks,  whole  stretches  of  the  great 
white  water-lily  rose  and  fell  with  every  gentle 
undulation. 

There  was  a  berry,  also,  the*' bitter  sweet," 
which  was,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  year,  as  pretty 
as  any  flower.  At  the  end  of  each  of  the  delicate 
twigs  on  which  it  grew,  it  hung  in  clusters,  which, 
while  unripe,  were  of  the  richest  orange ;  but  after 
a  time,  this  covering  opened  into  four  golden  points, 
and  showed,  in  the  centre,  a  bright  scarlet  berry. 


ill 


it' 


!.*; 


I%e  Indians, 


227 


CHAPTER    XV. 


The  Indians.  —  Wigwams.  —  Dress.  —  Can  the  Indians  be  civilized? 

—  Their  past  decay  as  a  race.  — Alleged  innocence  of  savage  life. 

—  Narrativt  of  Father  Jogues,  the  Jesuit  missionary. 

BEFORE  coming  to  America  we  had  read  a 
great  deal  about  the  Indians,  and  were  most 
anxious  to  see  them.  I  remember  asking  a  lady 
from  Canada  if  she  was  not  afraid  of  them,  and  was 
astonished  when  she  smiled  at  the  question.  Our 
minds  had  been  filled  in  childhood  with  stories 
about  the  Mohawks,  and  Hurons,  and  other  savage 
nations ;  how  they  rushed  on  the  houses  of  settlers 
at  the  dead  of  night,  and,  after  burning  their  houses, 
killed  and  scalped  the  men,  and  drove  the  women 
and  children  into  captivity  in  the  woods.  Their 
painted  faces,  wild  feathered  dresses,  and  terrible 
war-cry  had  become  quite  familiar  to  our  heated 
fancies ;  and  we  were  by  no  means  sure  we  should 
not  have  to  endure  too  close  an  acquaintance  with 
them  when  we  became  settlers  in  their  country. 
The  terrible  story  on  which  Campbell's  beautiful 
poem,  "  Gertrude  of  Wyoming,"  is  founded,  was 
regarded  as  a  sample  of  what  we  had  to  fear  in  our 


I 


m 


•228 


Indian  Wigwams. 


«i  I 


n  ! 


lay  in  Canada.  Moreover,  tlie  romantic  accounts 
»f'  Indian  warriors  in  the  novels  of  Cooper,  and  in  , 
the  "writings  of  travellers,  helped  *•'  increase  both 
our  curiosity  and  dread,  and  we  n\  a^h  all  most  anx- 
ous  to  see  the  re])resentatives  of  the  red  men  in 
our  own  settlement,  notwithstanding  o\u'  extrava- 
gant tear  of  them.  We  were  uot  long  left  to  think 
what  they  were  like,  however ;  for  it  so  ha})[)ened 
Uiat  there  was  an  Indian  settlement  on  land  reserved 
Vor  them  along  the  river  a  few  miles  above  us,  and 
i)dd  families  ever  and  anon  pitched  their  wigwams 
ji  the  bush  close  to  us.  The  first  time  they  did  so, 
ive  all  went  out  eager  to  see  them  at  on«  e,  but 
never  were  ridiculous  hi<>;li-flown  notions  doomed 
lo  meet  a  more  thorough  disappointment.  They 
were  encann)ed  on  the  sloping  bank  of  the  creek, 
for  it  was  beautiful  summer  weather,  two  or  throe 
wigwams  risinii  under  the  shade  of  a  fine  oak  which 
stretched  hii!;h  overhead.  The  wiowams  themselves 
w^ere  simply  sheets  of  the  bark  of  the  birch  and 
bass-trees,  laid  against  a  slight  framework  of  poles 
inside,  and  sloping  inwards  like  a  cone,  with  a  hole 
at  the  top.  An  open  space  served  for  an  entrance, 
a  loose  sheet  of  bark,  at  the  side,  standing  ready  to 
do  duty  as  a  door,  if  required.  I  have  seen  them 
of  different  shapes,  but  they  are  generally  round, 
though  a  few  show  the  fancy  of  their  owners  by 
resembling  the  sloping  roof  of  a  house  laid  on  the 
ground,  with  the  entiy  at  one  end.  Bark  is  the 
common  material  i  but  in  the  woods  on  the  St.  Clair 


Indian  Wigwams, 


2'2Si 


river  I  once  saw  a  family  ensconced  below  some 
yards  of  wnite  cotton,  stretched  over  two  or  three 
rods  ;  and  near  Halifax,  in  Nova  Scotia,  in  winter, 
1  noticed  some  wio;wams  made  of  loose  broken  out- 
side  slabs  of  logs,  which  the  inmates  had  laboriously 
got  together.  In  this  last  miserable  hovel,  by  the 
way,  in  the  midst  of  deep  snow,  with  the  wind 
whistling  through  it  in  every  direction,  and  the 
thermometer  below  zero,  lay  a  sick  squaw  and  a 
young  infant,  on  some  straw  and  old  blankets,  to 
get  well  the  best  way  she  could.  What  she  must 
have  suffered  from  the  cold  can  hardly  be  conceived. 
No  wonder  so  many  die  of  consumption. 

In  the  grou])  at  the  wigwams,  as  we  drew  near, 
we  could  see  there  w^ere  both  men,  women,  and 
children  —  the  men  and  women  ornamented  with 
great  flat  silver  earrings,  and  all,  including  the 
children,  bare-headed.  Their  hair  was  of  jet  black, 
and  quite  straight,  and  the  men  had  neither  beards 
nor  whiskers.  Both  sexes  wore  their  hair  long, 
some  of  them  plaiting  it  up  in  various  ways.  Their 
color  was  like  that  of  a  brown  dried  leaf,  their  cheek- 
bones high  and  wide  apart ;  their  mouths  generally 
large,  and  their  eyes  smaller  than  ours ;  and  we 
noticed  that  they  all  had  ^ood  teeth.  This  is  not, 
however,  an  invariable  characteristic,  for  sometimes 
they  suffer  from  their  decay,  like  Europeans,  and 
the  doctor  once  told  me  how  an  Indian  had  waited 
for  him  at  the  side  of  the  road,  and,  when  he  came 
up,  had  made  signs  of  pain  from  toothache,  and  of 

20 


ir 


i' 


11' 


;:|i'<^i 


m 


.ill., 
v.uih  yi  ■ 


It 


I  -  ;  it 


,  '  '■ 


i  \ 


I 


t 


*t" 


i: 


H 


230 


Indian  Dress. 


his  wish  tliat  the  tooth  should  be  removed,  which 
was  forthwith  done,  the  sufferer  departing  in  great 
glee  at  the  thought  of  his  deliverance.  "  The  next 
day,"  the  doctor  added,  "  the  poor  fellow  showed 
his  gratitude  by  waiting  for  me  at  the  same  place 
with  a  fino  stone  pipe-head,  which  he  had  just  cut, 
and  which  he  handed  to  me  with  a  grunt  of  good- 
will as  I  came  up."  The  dress  of  the  women  con- 
sisted of  a  cotton  jacket,  a  short  petticoat  of  cloth, 
with  leggings  of  cloth  underneath,  which  fitted 
tightly.  Those  who  were  doing  nothing  had  a 
blanket  loosely  thrown  over  them,  though  it  was 
then  hot  enough  to  do  without  almost  any  clothing. 
The  dress  of  the  men  varied,  from  the  merest 
mockery  of  clothing  to  the  full  suit  of  a  cotton  shirt 
and  a  pair  of  long  leather  or  cloth  leggings.  One 
of  them,  a  great  strapping  man,  gave  my  sisters  a 
great  fright,  shortly  after,  by  walking  into  the  house 
as  noiselessly  as  a  cat,  and  stalking  up  to  the  fire 
for  a  light  to  his  pipe,  with  nothing  on  him  but  a 
cotton  shirt.  Pulling  out  a  piece  of  burning  wood 
and  kindling  his  pipe,  he  sat  down  on  a  chair  beside 
them  to  enjoy  a  smoke,  without  ever  saying  a  word, 
and  went  off,  when  he  had  finished,  with  equal 
silence.  The  little  children  were  naked  either 
altogether,  or  with  the  exception  of  a  piece  of  cotton 
round  their  loins ;  and  the  babies,  of  which  there 
are  always  some  in  every  Indian  encampment, 
peered  out  with  their  bright  black  beads  of  eyes 
from  papooses,  either  hung  up  on  a  forked  pole  or 


Indian  Babies. 


231 


St 


resting  against  a  tree.  These  "jiapooses"  were 
quite  a  novelty  to  us.  They  were  simply  a  flat 
board  a  little  longer  than  the  infant,  with  a  bow  of 
hickory  bent  in  an  arch  over  the  upper  end,  to 
protect  the  head,  and  some  strings  at  the  sides  to 
tie  the  little  creature  safely.  There  it  lay  or  stood, 
with  abundant  wrappings  round  it,  but  with  its  legs 
and  arms  in  hopeless  confinement,  its  little  eyes 
and  thin  trembling  lips  alone  telling  the  story  of  its 
tender  age.  To  lift  it  was  like  taking  hold  of  a 
fiddle,  only  you  could  hardly  hurt  it  so  easily  as  you 
might  the  instrument.  Not  a  cry  was  to  be  heard, 
for  Indian  babies  seem  always  good,  and  nobody 
was  uselessly  occupied  in  taking  care  of  them,  for, 
where  they  were,  no  injury  could  come  near  them. 
I  should  not  myself  like  to  be  tied  up  in  such  a 
way,  but  it  seems  to  do  famously  with  them.  One 
of  the  women  had  her  child  at  her  back,  inside  her 
blanket,  its  little  brown  face  and  black  eyes  peering 
over  her  shoulder.  Another  was  putting  some 
sticks  under  a  pot,  hung  from  a  pole,  which  rested 
on  the  forks  of  two  others ;  and  one  or  two  were 
enjoying  a  gossip  on  the  grass.  The  men,  of  course, 
were  doing  nothing,  while  the  boys  were  amusing 
themselves  with  their  bows  and  arrows,  in  the  use 
of  which  they  are  very  expert.  We  had  been  told 
that  they  could  hit  almost  any  thing,  and  resolved 
to  try  them  with  some  coppers,  which  were  certainly 
very  small  objects  to  strike  in  the  air ;  but  the  little 
fellows  were  wonderful  archers.     Each  half-penny 


232 


Indian  Habits. 


1 '  ■  ■; 


r ; 


got  its  quietus  the  moment  it  left  our  fingers,  and 
they  even  liit  a  sixpence  which  Henry,  in  a  fit  of 
generosity,  threw  jp.  Birds  must  have  a  very 
small  chance  of  escape  when  they  get  within  range 
of  tlieir  arrows.  It  brought  to  my  mind  the  little 
Balearic  islanders,  who,  in  old  times,  could  not  get 
their  dinners  till  they  had  hit  them  from  tlie  top  of 
a  high  pole  with  their  slings,  and  country  boys  I 
had  seen  in  England,  whom  long  practice  had  taught 
to  throw  stones  so  exactly  that  they  could  hit  almost 
any  thing.  Indeed,  there  seems  to  be  nothing  that 
we  may  not  learn  if  we  only  try  long  enough,  s^nd 
with  sufficient  earnestness. 

It  used  to  astonish  me  to  see  the  Indians  on  the 


(( 


Reserve  "  living  in  bark  wigwams,  close  to  com- 
fortable log-houses  erected  for  them  by  Govern- 
ment, but  which  they  would  not  take  as  a  gift.  I 
used  to  think  it  a  striking  proof  of  the  difficulty  of 
breakinof  off  the  habits  formed  in  uncivilized  life. 
and  so  indeed  it  is  ;  but,  the  poor  Indians  had  more 
sense  in  what  seems  madness  than  I  at  first  sup- 
posed. It  appears  they  feel  persuaded  that  living 
one  part  of  the  year  in  the  warmth  and  comfort  of 
a  log-house  makes  them  unable  to  bear  the  exposure 
during  the  rest,  when  they  are  away  in  the  woods 
on  their  hunting  expeditions.  But  why  they  should 
not  give  up  these  wandering  habits,  which  force 
such  hardships  on  them,  and  repay  them  so  badly 
after  all,  is  wonderful,  and  must  be  attributed  to 
the  inveterate  force  of  habit.     It  seems  to  be  very 


Can  the  Indians  he  Civilized? 


233 


life. 


hard  to  get  wildness  out  of  the  blood  when  once 
fairly  in  it.  It  takes  generations  in  most  cases  to 
make  such  men  civilized.  Lord  Dartmouth  once 
founded  a  college  for  Indians  in  Massachusetts, 
when  it  was  a  British  province,  and  some  of  them 
were  collected  and  taun;ht  Eno-lish  and  the  classics, 
with  the  other  branches  of  a  liberal  education  ;  but 
it  was  found,  after  they  had  finished  their  studies, 
that  they  were  still  Indians,  and  that,  as  soon  as 
they  had  a  chance,  they  threw  away  their  books 
and  English  clothes,  to  run  off  again  to  the  woods 
and  wander  about  in  clothes  of  skins,  and  live  in 
wio-wams.  It  is  the  same  with  the  aborigines  of 
Australia.  The  missionaries  and  their  wives  have 
tried  to  get  them  taught  the  simple  rudiments  of 
English  life  —  the  boys  to  work  and  the  girls  to 
sew  —  but  it  has  been  found  that,  after  a  time,  they 
always  got  like  caged  birds  beating  against  their 
prison,  and  that  they  could  not  be  kept  from  dart- 
iiio;  off  ao;ain  to  the  wilderness.  The  New  Zea- 
lander  stands,  so  far  as  I  know,  a  solitary  and 
wonderful  excei)ti(m  to  this  rule,  the  sons  of  men 
who  were  cannibals  have  already  adopted  civili- 
zati(m  to  so  great  an  extent  as  to  be  their  own  ship- 
builders, sailors,  captains,  clerks,  schoolmasters,  and 
farmers. 

It  seems  almost  the  necessary  result  of  civilized 
and  uncivilized  people  living  together  in  the  same 
country  that  the  latter,  as  the  weaker,  should  fade 
awiiy  before  their  rivals,  if  they  do  not  thoroughly 

20* 


r) 


*  - 


t  ■ 
h'  ■ 

1  ..» 


( 


a.f; 


it 


h 


mi 


'i: 


mm 


I; 


,1  ;i 


in 


l> 


Ul^.I 


I!- 


mi 


i:i 


m^i 


!   .5' 


11 


,  iu'!-:  S 


i!l:n:M 


::;1  < 


r! 


I 


M'  '. 


U'Mi 


234 


TJieir  jpaat  Decay  as  a  Bace* 


adopt  their  luibits.  The  aboriginal  inliabitants  of 
the  Sandwich  Islands  are  ra])idly  ap[)roaehing  ex 
tinction  in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  secure  their  perma-« 
nence.  The  vices  of  civilization  have  corru})ted  the 
very  blood  of  the  race,  till  they  seem  hopelessly 
fading  away.  The  natives  of  New  Holland  are 
vanishing"  in  the  same  way,  though  not,  perhaps, 
from  the  same  immediate  causes.  The  Caribs  of 
the  West  Indies,  who  were  so  fierce  and  powerful 
in  the  days  of  Columbus  and  his  successors,  are 
now  extinct.  It  is  much  the  same  with  the  Red 
Man  of  America.  The  whole  continent  was  theirs 
from  north  to  south,  and  from  east  to  west,  but  now 
they  are  only  to  be  found  crowded  into  corners  of 
our  different  provinces,  a  poor  and  miserable  rem- 
nant, or  as  fugitives  in  remote  prairies  and  forests, 
for  they  have  been  nearly  banished  altogether  from 
the  settled  territories  of  the  States.  It  is  a  curious 
fact,  also,  that  this  is  not  the  first  time  widely-spread 
races  of  their  color  have  been  swept  away  from  the 
same  vast  surface.  Remains  of  former  populations, 
which  have  perished  before  those  who  tliemselves 
are  now  perishing,  are  to  be  found  in  many  parts, 
as  in  the  huge  burial  mounds  of  Ohio,  and  the  ruined 
cities  of  Guatemala  and  Yucatan.  Canada  has  now 
settlements  of  Indians  in  various  places,  but  they 
are,  altogether,  few  in  number.  One  is  on  Mani- 
toulin  Island,  near  the  northern  shore  of  Lake 
Huron,  wdiere  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, Mr.  Peter  Jacobs,  himself  an  Indian,  minis- 


Indian  Decay  as  a  Race. 


236 


lei's,  as  a  zealous  and  efficient  missionary ;  another, 
fit  the  head  of  River  St.  Clair,  stretches  down  the 
hank  for  four  or  five  miles,  the  picture  of  neglect 
;5ii;l  aversion  to  work,  in  the  midst  of  improvement 
j'.r  ciuh  side  ;  one  on  Walpole  Island,  down  the 
liv'T,  where  the  missionary  is  one  of  the  most  «nir- 
II  'sr  and  laborious  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  know- 
ii:o; ;  one  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Thames,  under 
the  charge  of  the  Moravian  brethren  —  the  wreck 
of  tribes  who  left  the  States  in  the  war,  last  century 
—  forming,  with  another  settlement  on  the  Grand 
River,  near  Bi'antford,  the  representatives  of  those 
who,  in  Lord  Chatham's  day,  brought  down  that 
great  orator's  terrible  denunciation  of  the  "  calling 
into  civilized  alliance  the  wild  and  inhuman  inhab- 
itants of  the  woods,  and  delegating  to  the  toma- 
hawk and  the  scal})ing-knife  of  the  merciless  savage 
the  rights  of  disputed  property."  There  are  some 
others  to  the  north  and  east  of  Toronto,  but  their 
numbers  altogether  are  but  the  shadow  of  what 
they  were  once.  Old  Courtenay,  speaking  to  me 
one  day  about  those  on  the  River  St.  Clair,  where 
he  had  lived  from  his  childhood,  shook  his  head  as 
a  wandering,  miserable  family  passed  by  on  their 
wretched  ponies,  and  said,  feelingly,  "  Poor  things ! 
they'll  soon  follow  the  rest.  I  remember  when 
there  were  a  hundred  on  the  river  for  twenty  there 
are  now.  They  all  go  at  the  lungs.  Lying  out 
in  the  wet  brings  on  the  terrible  cough,  and  they're 
gone."     The   Indian  Agent  for   the  west  of  the 


•  '}^iS 


V  I 


I, 


M' 


I' 


r 


IHM 


W^l 


:' 

i:| 

Mil      i 

^P- 

ill 

....  aa^ 

236 


Indian  Decay  as  a  Itace, 


province  told  ine,  however,  when  in  Entrland,  lately 
tlijit  they  were  kee])ino;  u|)  tlieir  nunihers  now  ;  but 
I  can  hardly  sec  how  it  is  possible,  if  they  do  not 
take  more  care  of  themselves.  The  very  moccasins 
they  wear  for  shoes  are  fit,  in  my  o])ini()n,  to  kill 
anyone  —  mere  coverings  of  deer  leather,  whicli 
soak  uj)  water  like  blotting-})aper,  and  keep  them 
as  if  perpetually  standing  in  a  pool.  Then  they  get 
spirits  from  the  storekeepers,  in  spite  of  every  effort 
on  the  ])art  of  government  to  prevent  it,  and  they 
often  suffer  such  ])rivations  for  want  of  food  as  must 
tell  fearfully  on  their  health.  I  have  often  watched 
them  passing  on  ponies  or  a-foot ;  if  the  former,  the 
squaws  sitting  cross-legged  on  the  bare  backs,  like 
men,  with  their  children  round  them,  and  guiding 
thei''  animals  by  a  ro]:)e  halter  ;  the  men  carrying 
only  a  gun,  if  they  were  rich  enough  to  have  one ; 
and  I  have  thoujTht  of  the  contrast  between  their 
present  state  and  the  story  of  their  numbers  and 
fierceness,  as  handed  down  in  the  old  French  narra- 
tives of  two  hundred  years  ago  ;  how  they  kept  the 
French  in  perpetual  fear,  burning  their  houses  and 
even  their  towns  ;  how  the  woods  swarmed,  in  differ- 
ent parts,  with  their  different  indei)endent  nations 
—  The  Hurons,  the  Algonquins,  the  Iroquois,  the 
Ojibbeways  —  and  how,  in  later  years,  they  played 
so  terrible  a  part  in  the  French  and  American  wars 
with  Great  Britain.  They  seem  like  snow  in  sum- 
mer, when  only  a  patch  lies  here  and  there,  await- 
ing speedy  disappearance,  of  all  that  covered  hill 


AUefji'd  Innocence  of  Savarje  Life.         237 

and  valley  in  its  season.  Some  tribes,  indeed,  have 
passed  away  altoo;etlier  since  tlu>  first  landino-  of 
Europeans  on  the  continent.  Those  at  Nonantuni, 
in  Massachusetts,  for  \v'hom  the  fjreat  missionary, 
John  Eliot,  translated  the  Bihh'two  hundred  vears 
alio,  are  all  gone,  so  that  the  book  which  once 
spoke  to  them  of  the  world  to  come,  and  a  copy  of 
which  still  survives  in  the  museum  at  Boston,  now 
lies  open  without  a  livino;  creature  who  can  read  it. 
The  Mandans,  a  great  tribe  in  the  western  jirairies 
—  the  only  tribe,  indeed,  of  whom  I  have  heard, 
among  the  Indians  of  the  present  day,  as  building 
regular  fortified  and  permanent  villages  and  towns, 
have  been  entirely  swept  off  within  the  last  thirty 
years  by  the  smallpox,  which  was  brought  among 
them  by  some  poor  trader. 

It  is  a  striking  contradiction  to  what  we  some- 
times hear  of  the  happy  innocence  of  savage  life, 
that  the  Indians,  when  they  had  all  the  country  to 
themselves,  were  continually  at  war  with  one 
another.  The  Mohawks,  who  lived  in  the  north- 
ern part  of  the  United  States,  seem  especially  to 
have  been  given  to  strife,  often  leaving  theii-  own 
side  of  the  great  lakes  to  make  desolating  inroads 
into  Canada,  until  their  name  became  such  a  word 
of  terror  that  the  very  mention  of  it  spread  alarm 
in  an  encampment.  Even  at  this  day,  I  have  been 
assured  that  to  raise  the  cry  of  "  the  Mohawks  are 
coming,"  would  strike  a  delirium  of  panic  through 
a  whole  settlement.     They  seem  to  think  they  are 


m 


y«i 


^i 


'i'f' 


^1? 


1  f     't'l.^ 


r* 


i 


v^ 


^n  1       ■    rrr 


III 

'll 

'i                                    ''  , 

I 

! 

1 


i.  ' 


;t   . 


f  is    ■<'   '•. 

'I  I  "■  ) 


:.)      5        » 


^»l^ 


r^^ 


i: 


m 


1    .  I 


I; 


1.1 


I  '  . 


l»l 


288 


I7ie  Mohairks, 


still  somewhere  not  far  off,  and  may  reappear  at 
any  moment,  lint  tli()u*j;li  tlie  Moliawks  may  liavo 
left  so  blood-stained  a  memory  of  themselves,  it  may 
be  safely  said  that  there  was  hardly  one  tribe  better 
than  another.  The  pa<ii;es  of  the  old  ehronielers 
are  red  with  the  continual  record  of  their  univer- 
sal confliets.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  curious, 
as  showing  how  widely-sj)read  the  terrors  of 
the  Mohawk  name  came  to  be,  that  the  dissolute 
young  men  of  Addison's  day,  who  were  wont  to 
find  pleasure  in  acts  of  violence  and  terror  in  the 
streets  of  London  by  night,  called  themselves 
**  Mohocks."  The  French  appear  to  have  them- 
selves been  in  part  to  blame  for  their  sufferings 
from  the  Indians,  from  the  wars  they  excited 
between  rival  nations,  and  the  readiness  witli 
which  they  furnished  their  allies  with  the  means 
of  destruction.  The  passions  thus  kindled  too  often 
recoiled  u})on  themselves.  Their  traders  had  no 
scruples  in  supplying  to  any  extent  the  three  great 
cravings  of  an  Indian  —  rum,  tobacco,  and  scalping- 
knives  —  the  first  of  which  led,  in  innumerable 
cases,  to  tl^e  too  ready  use  of  the  last.  A  scalping- 
knife,  by  the  way,  is  an  ugly  weapon,  with  n  '  nrved 
blade  like  an  old-fashioned  razor,  '^  Jiarp  at  the 
point,  and  was  used  to  cut  off  skin  fron    the 

top  of  a  dead  enemy's  head,  witl.  iie  hair  on  it,  to 
preserve  as  a  proof  of  their  warlike  exj  !oits.  The 
number  of  scalps  any  warrior  possessed  being  hailed 
as  the  measure  of  his  renown  in  his  tribe,  the  desire 


A  Narrow  Escape. 


239 


»g- 


for  tlicm  became  as  miicli  a  passion  with  an  Indian 
as  the  wish  for  the  Victoria  Cross  with  a  British 
sohHer,  and  raised  an  almost  un<i;oveniabK!  excite- 
ment in  tlieir  i)reasts  wlien  an  oj)|)ortnnity  lor 
^nitityinji;  it  offered  itself.  A  story  is  told  of  a 
Jiritish  otHcer  who  was  travelling  many  years  ago 
in  America,  witli  an  Indian  for  his  gnide,  waking 
suddenly  one  morning  and  finding  him  standing 
over  him  in  a  state  of  frenzy,  his  features  working 
in  tlie  conflict  of  overpowering  passions  like  those 
of  one  possessed,  his  knife  in  his  hand,  ready,  if  the 
evil  spirit  triumphed,  to  destroy  his  master  for  the 
sake  of  ►  s  scalp.  The  officer's  waking,  hai)j)ily 
broke  the  spell,  and  the  Indian  flung  liimself  at  the 
feet  of  his  intended  victim,  told  him  his  temptation, 
and  rejoiced  that  he  had  escaped.  He  had  seen 
him  playing  with  his  long  soft  hair,  he  said,  and 
could  not  keep  from  thinking  wdiat  a  nice  scalp  it 
would  furnish,  till  he  had  all  but  murdered  him  to 
get  it."  * 

That  the  very  name  of  "  Indian  "  should  have 
filled  the  heart  of  all  who  heard  it  in  old  times  with 
horror  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  However  miser- 
able they  may  be  now,  in  great  part  through  their 
constant  wars  among  themselves,  they  were  fright- 
fully cruel  and  bloodthirsty  savages  when  their 
nation's  tribes  were  numerous.    We  have  little  idea, 

*  The  ancient  Scythians,  also,  sculped  their  eneraicB.  (Hero- 
dotus, Bk.  iv.  64.)  Tlie  Indians  are  only  Scythians  or  Tartars 
who  have  fallen  from  the  pastoral  to  the  hunting  life.  • 


I 


B?  W 


iiifi 


240 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogucs, 


;  ( 


\      i 


wv 


i!"  1    l\ 


! 


r   ;[ 


»" 


from  anytliing  Canada  now  offers,  as  to  their  man* 
ners  and  habits,  or  tlieir  character,  in  the  days  of 
their  fierce  power  ;  but  it  cannot  be  said  that  this 
is  owing  to  their  beino;  civiHzed,  or  to  their  liavin<T 
become  more  Immane.  They  are  still  as  wikl,  to 
a  large  extent,  as  the  wild  beasts  of  the  woods,  in 
all  their  habits  —  still  wanderers  —  still  idle  and 
thriftless  —  still  without  any  arts  —  and  still  with- 
out any  thing  like  national  progress.  It  rises  only 
from  their  being  a  crushed  and  dispirited  remnant, 
who  have  lost  the  boldness  of  tlieir  ancestors,  and 
are  fairly  cowed  and  broken  by  a  sense  of  their 
weakness.  Out  of  the  reach  of  civilization  they 
are  still  the  same  as  ever ;  and  Mdiat  that  was  in 
the  days  when  they  were  the  lords  of  Canada,  we 
may  judge  from  the  accounts  left  by  the  French 
missionaries,  who  then  lived  among  them.  The 
following  narrative,  which  I  translate  from  its  quaint 
old  French,  has  not,  I  believe,  been  printed  before 
in  English,  and  takes  us  most  vividly  back  to  those 
bvfirone  times.*  As  a  Protestant,  I  do  not  agree 
with  every  thing  that  it  contains,  but  you  can 
remember  that  it  is  the  narrative  of  a  Jesuit  priest. 
Father  Jogues  was  of  a  good  family  of  the  town 
of  Orleans,  in  France,  and  was  sent  to  Canada  by 
the  general  of  his  order  in  1636.  He  went  up  to  the 
country  of  the  Hurons  the  same  year,  and  stayed 


*  "Relations  des  Jesuites  dans  la  Nouvelle  France." 
hec,  1858. 


Que* 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues, 


241 


there  till  June,  1642,  when  he  was  sent  to  Quebec 
on  the  iitfairs  of  the  "  great  and  laborious  mission  " 
among  that  people.  Father  Lallemant,  at  that 
time  superior  ol'  the  mission,  sent  for  him,  and  pro- 
posed the  voyage,  whieh  was  a  terrible  task,  owing 
to  the  difficulty  of  the  roads,  and  very  dauii^rous 
from  the  risk  of  ambuscades  of  the  Iroquois,  who 
massacred  every  year  a  number  of  the  Indians  allied 
with  the  French.     He  proceeds  to  say,  — 

"  The  proposition  being  made  to  me,  I  embraced 
it  with  all  my  heart.  Behold  us,  then,  on  the  way, 
and  in  dangers  of  every  kind.  We  had  to  disembark 
forty  times,  and  forty  times  to  carry  our  canoes,  and 
all  our  baggage,  past  the  currents  and  rapids  which 
Ave  met  in  a  voyage  of  about  three  hundred  leagues ; 
and  although  the  savages  who  conducted  us  were 
very  expert,  we  could  not  avoid  the  frequent  up- 
setting of  our  canoes,  accompanied  with  great  danger 
to  our  lives,  and  the  loss  of  our  little  luggage.  At 
last,  twenty-three  days  after  our  departure  from 
the  Hurons,  we  arrived,  very  weary,  at  Three 
Rivers,  whence  we  descended  to  Quebec.  Our 
business  being  completed  in  a  fortnight,  we  kept 
the  feast  of  St.  Ignatius ;  and  the  next  day,  the 
1st  of  August.  lt)42,  left  Three  Rivevi;  to  retrace 
our  steps  to  the  country  whence  we  had  come. 
The  first  day  v7as  favorable  to  us;  the  second, 
we  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Iroq[uois.     We  were 

forty  in  number,  divided  among  different  canoes 

21 


I  ■*. 


242 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues. 


!■;: 


',\ 


;.'-^ 


i.-.-i 


\rV: 


« 


and  that  which  carried  the  advance  guard  having 
discovered,  on  the  banks  of  the  great  river,  some 
tracks  of  men's  feet  newly  impressed  on  the  sand 
and  chiy,  made  it  known.  When  we  had  landed, 
some  said  they  were  traces  of  an  enemy,  others 
were  sure  they  were  the  footmarks  of  Algonquins, 
our  allies.  In  this  contention  of  opinion  Eustache 
Ahatsistari,  to  whom  all  the  others  deferred  on 
account  of  his  deeds  of  arms  and  his  bravery,  cried 
out  — '  Whether  they  are  friends  or  enemies  does 
not  matter ;  I  see  by  their  tracks  that  they  are  not 
more  in  number  than  ourselves ;  let  us  advance, 
and  fear  nothing.' 

"  We  had  hardly  gone  on  a  half  league  when  the 
enemy,  hidden  in  the  grass  and  brush  rose,  with  a 
loud  cry,  discharging  on  our  canoes  a  perfect  hail 
of  bullets.  The  noise  of  their  arquebuses  so  terri- 
fied a  part  of  our  Hurons,  that  they  abandoned  their 
canoes,  and  their  arms,  and  all  their  goods,  to  save 
themselves  by  flight  into  die  depths  of  the  woods. 
This  volley  did  us  little  harm  ;  no  one  lost  his  life. 
One  Huron  only  had  his  hand  pierced  by  a  ball, 
and  our  canoes  were  broken  in  several  places. 
There  were  four  Frenchmen  of  us,  one  of  whom 
being  in  the  rear-guard,  saved  himself  with  the 
Hurons,  who  fled  before  approaching  the  enemy. 
Eight  or  ten  Christian  catechumens  joined  us,  and 
having  got  them  to  offer  a  short  prayer,  they  made 
)iead  courageously  against  the  enemy,  and  though 
t|iey  wej0  thirty  men  against  a  dozen  or  fourteen, 


I  r 


'  -'] 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues. 


243 


our  people  sustained  their  attack  valiantly.  But 
perceiving  that  another  band  of  forty  Iroquois,  who 
were  in  ambush  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  were 
crossing  to  fall  on  them,  they  lost  heart,  and,  like 
those  who  had  been  less  engaged,  they  fled,  abandon- 
injx  their  comrades  in  the  melee.  One  Frenchman 
—  Ren^  Goupil  —  since  dead,  being  no  longer 
supported  by  those  who  followed  him,  was  taken, 
with  some  Hurons  who  had  proved  the  most  cou- 
rageous. I  saw  this  disaster  from  a  place  which 
effectually  concealed  me  from  the  enemy,  the  thickets 
and  reeds  furnishing  a  perfect  screen,  but  the  thought 
of  thus  turning  it  to  account  never  entered  my  mind. 
Could  I,  I  said  to  myself,  leave  our  French,  and 
these  good  neophytes,  and  these  poor  catechumens, 
without  giving  them  the  helps  with  which  the  true 
Church  of  God  has  intrusted  me  ?  Flight  seemed 
to  me  horrible.  It  is  necessary,  said  I  to  myself, 
that  my  body  should  suffer  the  fire  of  this  world  to 
deliver  these  poor  souls  from  the  flames  of  Hell  — 
it  is  necessary  that  it  should  die  a  momentary  death 
to  procure  them  life  eternal. 

"My  conclusion  being  thus  taken  without  any 
great  struggle  in  my  mind,  I  called  one  of  the 
Iroquois  who  was  left  behind  to  guard  the  prisoners. 
He,  seeing  me,  was  at  first  afraid  to  approach,  fear- 
ing an  ambush.  '  Approach,'  said  I,  '  fear  nothing ; 
conduct  me  to  the  French  and  Hurons  you  hold 
captive.'  He  advances,  and  having  seized  me,  adds 
me  to  the  number  of  those  who,  in  a  worldly  point 


* 


H'"    ' 


=; 


; 


I 


i*i 


■^iT" 


1 
.1 

: 


illj , 


'  it  I 


a' ."J 


I' V 


M 


i^t 


■ « 


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# 


244 


narrative  of  Father  JogueB, 


of  view,  wonlfl  be  regarded  as  utterly  wretched. 
Meanwliile,  tho.;e  who  were  chasing  the  fugitives 
led  back  some  of  them,  and  I  confessed  and  made 
Christians  of  those  who  were  not  so.  At  last  they 
led  back  that  brave  chief,  Eustache,  who  cried  out 
on  seeino;  me.  that  he  had  sworn  to  live  and  die 
with  me.  Another  Frenchman,  named  William 
Couture,  seeing  the  Hurons  take  to  flight,  saved 
himself,  like  them,  in  the  forest ;  but  remorse  hav- 
io":  seized  him  at  the  thought  of  abandonino;  his 
friends,  and  the  fear  of  being  thought  a  coward 
tormenting  him,  he  turned  to  come  back.  Just 
then  five  Iroquois  came  upon  him,  one  of  whom 
aimed  at  him  but  without  effect,  his  piece  having 
snapped,  on  which  the  Frenchman  instantly  shot 
him  dead.  His  musket  was  no  sooner  discharfjed 
than  the  four  were  on  him  in  a  moment,  and  having 
stripped  him  perfectly  naked,  wellnigh  murdered 
him  with  their  clubs,  pulled  out  his  nails  with  their 
teeth,  pounding  the  bleeding  tips  to  cause  greater 
agony  ;  and,  finally,  after  stabbing  him  with  a  knife 
in  one  hand,  led  him  to  us  in  a  sad  plight,  bound 
fast.  On  my  seeing  him,  I  ran  from  my  guards  and 
fell  on  his  neck,  but  the  Iroquois,  seeing  us  thus  ten- 
derly affected,  though  at  first  astonished,  looked  on 
in  silence,  till,  all  at  once,  thinking,  perhaps,  I  was 
praising  him  for  having  killed  one  of  their  number, 
they  ran  at  me  with  blows  of  their  fists,  with  clubs, 
and  with  the  stocks  of  their  arquebuses,  felling  mo 
to  the  ground  half  dead.     When  I  began  to  breathe 


Narrative  of  Father  Jbgues. 


245 


again,  those  wlio,  hitherto,  had  not  injured  me, 
came  up  and  tore  out  the  nails  of  my  fingers  witli 
their  teeth,  and  than  bit,  one  after  another,  tlio 
ends  of  the  two  forefingers  tlms  stripped  of  their 
nails,  causing  me  great  pain — grinding  and  crauncli- 
ing  them  to  pieces,  indeed  as  if  they  had  been 
pounded  between  two  stones,  so  that  fragments  of 
tlie  bones  came  out.  They  treated  the  good  Rene 
Goupil  in  the  same  way,  but  they  did  no  harm  tor 
tlie  time  to  Hurons,  so  enraged  were  they  at  the 
French  for  not  accepting  peace  on  their  terms  the 
year  before. 

"  All  being  at  last  assembled,  and  their  scouts 
having  returned  from  chasing  the  fugitives,  the 
barbarians  divided  their  bootv  among  themselves, 
rejoicing  with  loud  cries.  While  they  were  thus 
engaged  I  revisited  all  the  captives,  baptizing  those 
who  had  not  been  so  before,  and  encouraging  the 
poor  creatures,  assuring  them  that  their  reward 
would  far  surpass  their  tortures.  I  perceived  after 
making  this  round  that  we  were  twenty-two  in 
number,  not  counting  three  Hurons  killed  on  the 
spot. 

"  Behold  us,  then,  being  led  into  a  country  truly 
strange  to  us.  It  is  true  that,  during  the  thirteen 
days  we  were  on  this  journey,  I  suffered  almost 
insupportable  bodily  torments  and  mortal  anguish 
of  spirit ;  hunger,  burning  heat  —  besides  the  im- 
precations and  threats  of  these  leopards  in  human 
shape  —  and  in  addition  to  these  miseries,  the  pain 

21* 


mm 


'^  r  ^m 


teislilfi 


ii/ffc 


; 


w 

1 


1 


i 


'» 


!;■ 


, 


ipjr-;  I 


'fT 


fi 


I  '  i 


4   M 


246 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues* 


of  our  wounds,  wliicli,  for  want  of  dressing,  rotted 
till  they  bred  worms,  caused  us  much  distress ;  but 
all  these  things  seemed  light  to  me,  in  comparison 
witli  my  internal  suffering  at  the  sight  of  our  first 
and  most  ardent  Christians  among  the  Hurons  in 
such  circumstances.  I  had  thought  they  would  be 
j)il]ars  of  the  new-born  Church,  and  I  saw  them 
become  victims  of  these  bloodthirsty  savages. 

*'  A  week  aftei  our  departure  from  the  banks  of 
the  St.  Lawrence,  we  met  two  hundred  Iroquois  in 
eager  search  for  Frenchmen,  or  their  Indian  allies, 
wherever  they  could  meet  them.  Unhappily,  it  is 
a  belief  among  these  barbarians,  that  those  who  are 
going  to  war  are  prosperous  in  proportion  as  they 
are  cruel  to  their  enemies ;  and,  I  assure  you,  they 
made  us  feel  the  effect  of  this  unfortunate  opinion. 
Having  perceived  us  they  first  thanked  the  sun  for 
having  caused  us  to  fall  into  their  hands,  and  those 
of  their  countrymen,  and  then  fired  a  salute  in  honor 
of  their  victory.  This  done,  they  went  into  the 
woods,  to  seek  for  clubs  or  thorns,  as  their  fancy 
led  them  ;  then,  thus  armed,  they  formed  a  lane,  a 
hundred  on  each  side,  and  made  us  pass,  naked, 
down  this  bitter  path  of  anguish,  each  one  trying 
who  could  strike  oftenest  and  hardest.  As  I  had 
to  pass  last,  I  was  the  most  exposed  to  their  rage, 
but  I  had  hardly  got  half  through,  before  I  fell 
under  the  weight  of  this  hail  of  reiterated  blows  ; 
nor  did  I  try  to  rise ;  partly,  indeed,  because  I 
wished  to  die  on  the  spot.     Seeing  me  down,  they 


Narrative  of  Father  Jog-ues. 


247 


i' '  I  :L 


threw  themselves  on  me,  and  God  alone  knows  the 
length  of  time  I  endured  this,  and  the  number  of 
blows  which  were  inflicted  on  my  body,  but  suffer- 
ings borne  for  His  glory  are  full  of  joy  and  honor  I 
The  savages,  seeing  I  had  fallen,  not  by  chance, 
but  that  I  wished  to  die,  took  a  cruel  compassion 
on  me,  lifting  me  up,  in  the  intention  of  keeping 
me  so  that  I  should  reach  their  country  alive,  and 
then  led  me,  all  bleeding,  to  an  open  knoll.  When 
I  had  come  to  myself  they  made  me  descend,  tor- 
mented me  in  a  thousand  ways,  made  me  the  butt 
of  their  taunts,  and  recommenced  beating  me,  let- 
ting off  another  hail  of  blows  on  my  head,  neck, 
and  body.  They  then  bunied  one  finger,  and 
cranched  another  with  their  teeth,  and  pressed  and 
twisted  those  which  were  already  mangled,  with 
the  rage  of  demons.  They  tore  my  wounds  open 
with  their  nails,  and  when  my  strength  failed  they 
put  fire  to  my  arms  and  thighs.  My  companions 
were  treated  pretty  nearly  like  myself.  One  of 
the  barbarians,  advancing  with  a  great  knife,  seized 
my  nose  in  his  left  hand  to  cut  it  off,  but,  though 
he  attempted  this  twice,  he  was  hindered  in  some 
way  from  completing  his  design.  Had  he  done  it, 
they  would  at  last  have  killed  me,  for  they  always 
murder  those  who  are  much  mutilated. 

"  Having  so  far  satisfied  their  bloodthirstiness  on 
our  poor  frames,  these  savages  departed  to  pursue 
their  route,  while  we  continued  ours. 

"  On  the  tenth  day,  we  reached  a  place  where  it 


248 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues. 


rlj^ 


t'    5 


\\ 


was  necessary  Lo  quit  the  waterside  and  travel  by 
land.  This  journey,  wliich  was  about  lour  days 
long,  was  very  painful,  he  who  wa«  apj)()intcd  to 
ouard  nie  not  beino;  able  to  carrv  all  his  i)lunder, 
and  givinii;  me  a  ])art  to  carry  on  my  back,  all  flayed 
as  it  was.  We  ate  nothintjj  for  three  days  but  a 
little  wild  fruit,  which  we  })ulled  in  ])assing.  The 
heat  of  the  sun  at  the  height  of  the  sunnner,  and 
our  wounds,  weakened  us  nmch,  so  that  we  had  to 
walk  behind  the  others,  and  they  being  much  scat- 
tered, I  told  Rend  he  should  try  to  save  himself; 
but  he  would  not  leave  me,  though  he  could  easily 
have  got  off.  I,  myself,  could  not  think  of  forsak- 
ing my  poor  little  flock.  On  the  eve  of  the 
Assumption,  we  reached  a  small  stream,  a  quarter 
of  a  league  from  the  first  town  of  the  Iroquois, 
where  we  found  the  banks  lined  on  both  sides  with 
a  number  of  men  armed  with  clubs,  which  they 
used  on  us  with  their  wonted  ferocity.  There 
were  only  two  of  my  nails  remaining,  and  these 
they  wrenched  ofl'  with  their  teeth,  tearing  away 
the  flesh  underneath,  and  bearing  it  to  the  very 
bones  with  their  nails,  wliich  they  let  grow  very 
long. 

**  After  they  had  thus  satisfied  their  cruelty,  they 
led  us  in  triumph  into  this  first  village,  all  the 
young  people  being  ranged  in  rows  outside  the 
gates,  armed,  some  with  sticks,  others  with  iron 
ramrods,  which  they  get  from  the  Dutch.*     They 


*  Probably  the  Dutch  settlers  in  what  is  now  the  western  part 
of  New  York  State. 


1 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues. 


249 


tliey 
the 
the 
iron 

They 

n  part 


mado  us  march  —  a  Frenchman  at  the  head,  another 
in  the  middle,  of  the  Hurons,  and  myself  the  last. 
We  were  made  to  follow  one  another  at  equal  dis- 
tances, and,  that  our  tormentors  might  be  the  better 
able  to  beat  us  at  their  ease,  some  Iroquois  threw 
themselves  into  our  line  to  keep  us  from  running  off, 
or  avoiding  any  blows.  1  was  naked,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  shirt,  like  a  criminal,  and  the  others  were 
entirely  naked,  except  poor  Rend  Goupil,  to  whom 
they  showed  the  same  favor  as  to  me.  We  were 
hardly  able  to  reach  the  stage  prepared  for  us  in 
the  middle  of  the  village,  so  fearfully  beaten  were 
we ;  our  bodies  livid  and  our  faces  bloody.  Nothing 
white  remained  visible  of  Ren(^'s  face  but  his  eyes, 
he  was  so  disfigured.  When  mounted  on  the 
stage  we  liad  a  short  respite,  except  from  their 
violent  words,  which  did  not  hurt  us,  but  it  was 
soon  over.  A  chief  cried  out  that  they  must  '  fon- 
dle the  Frenchman,'  which  was  no  sooner  said  than 
done  —  a  wretch,  leaping  on  the  scaffold  and  giving 
each  of  us  three  great  blows  with  a  stick,  but  not 
touching  the  Hurons.  Meanwhile,  the  others 
who  were  standing  close  to  us,  drawing  their 
knives,  treated  me  as  the  chief — that  is,  used  me 
worst  —  the  deference  paid  me  by  the  Hurons  hav- 
ing procured  me  this  s  I  honor.  An  old  man  took 
my  left  hand,  and  ordered  an  Algonquin  woman  to 
cut  off  one  of  my  fingers,  which  she  did,  after  some 
reluctance,  when  she  saw  she  would  be  forced  to  obey, 
—  cutting  off  my  left  thumb.     They  did  tJiis  to  tho 


irUA 


Mi 


;k 


I:' 


250 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogrtes. 


:t'- 


•h\ 


;i".    ■'■: 


I  i 


•i. 


illl 


.1 


I 


11 


<^ ' 


otluTs  also.  I  picked  ap  my  tlininb  from  the  scaf- 
fold, hut  one  of  my  French  companions  told  me 
tliat  if  tiiey  saw  me  with  it  they  would  make  me 
eat  it,  and  swallow  it  raw,  and  that  I  had  better 
throw  it  away,  Avhich  1  did.  They  used  an  oyster 
shell  to  cut  the  tluunbs  of  the  others,  to  give  them 
more  pain.  The  blood  flowing  so  that  we  were  like 
to  faint,  an  Iroquois  tore  ott'  a  piece  of  my  shirt  and 
tied  up  the  wounds,  and  this  was  all  the  bandage 
or  dressino;  we  o;ot.  When  evenino;  came  we  wero 
brouo-ht  down  to  be  led  to  the  wi<2;wams  to  be  made 
sport  for  the  children.  They  gave  us  a  little  boiled 
Indian  corn  for  food,  and  made  us  lie  down  on  a 
piece  of  bark,  tying  our  arms  and  Ijgs  to  four 
stakes  fived  in  the  ground,  like  a  St.  Andrew's 
cross.  The  children,  emulating  the  cruelty  of 
their  parents,  threw  burning  embers  on  our  stom- 
achs, taking  pleasure  in  seeing  our  flesh  scorch  and 
roast.  What  hideous  nights  !  To  be  fixed  in  one 
painful  position,  unable  to  turn  or  move,  incessantly 
attacked  bv  swarms  of  vermin,  with  our  bodies 
smarting  from  recent  wounds,  and  from  the  suffer- 
ing caused  by  older  ones  in  a  state  of  putrefaction, 
with  the  scantiest  food  to  keep  up  what  life  was 
left ;  of  a  truth  these  torments  were  terrible,  but 
God  is  great !  At  sunrise,  for  three  following  days, 
they  led  us  back  to  the  scaffold,  the  nights  being 
passed  as  I  have  described." 

Thus  far  we  have  given  the  father's  own  words, 
and  must  condense  what  remains  to  be  told  :  — 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues, 


251 


After  tliree  days  were  over  the  victims  were 
'ed  to  two  other  vilhiges,  and  exjiosed  naked,  under 
a  burning  sun,  with  tiieir  wounds  untended,  to  tho 
same  miseries  as  they  had  passed  through  in  tlie 
first.  At  the  second,  an  IncUan,  perceiving  that 
poor  Couture  liad  not  yet  lost  a  finger,  though  his 
hands  were  all  torn  to  pieces,  made  him  cut  off  his 
own  forefinger  with  a  blunt  knife,  and  when  he 
could  not  sever  it  entirely,  the  savage  took  and 
twisted  it,  and  pulled  it  away  by  main  force,  drag- 
ging out  a  sinew  a  palm  in  length,  the  poor  arm 
swelling  instantly  with  the  agony.  At  the  third 
village,  a  new  torture  was  added,  by  hanging  poor 
Jogues  by  his  arms,  so  high  that  his  feet  did  not 
touch  the  ground  ;  his  entreaty  to  be  released  only 
making  them  tie  him  the  tighter,  till  a  strange  In- 
dian, apparently  of  his  own  accord,  mercifully  cut 
him  down.  At  last  some  temporary  suspension  of 
his  sufferings  approached.  Fresh  prisoners  arrived, 
and  a  council  determined  that  the  French  should 
be  spared,  in  order  to  secure  advantages  fi*om  their 
countrymen.  Their  hands  being  useless  from  mu- 
tilation, they  had  to  be  fed  like  infants,  but  some 
of  the  women,  true  to  the  kindly  nature  of  their 
:jex,  took  pity  on  their  sufferings,  and  did  what  they 
could  to  relieve  them.  Meanwhile,  Couture  was 
sent  to  another  village,  and  Piere  Jogues  and  Ren^ 
remained  together. 

Unfortunately,  however,  of  the  three,  only  Cou- 
ture could  reckon  upon  the  preservation  of  his  life. 


.  i.J 


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252 


JWmatice  of  Father  Jogues. 


It  was  tlie  rnstoiii  witli  tlie  savages,  tliat  when  a 
prisoiiiT  was  liaiuUd  over  to  some  particular  Indian, 
to  sujij)!y  a  l)hmk  in  liis  liousehold,  caused  hy  tlio 
di'arli  of  any  of  its  mcuil^crs  in  battlo,  lie  was  t'ortli- 
witli  adopted  as  oni'  of  tlio  tribe,  and  was  tiience- 
fortli  sale;  but  as  lonf»;  as  be  was  not  tbus  bestowed, 
lie  ini;!;lit  be  ki'lvd,  at  tlie  caprice  of  any  one,  witli- 
out  the  least  warning;.  Of  the  three,  oidy  (Jouture 
bad  been  thus  iruaranteed  security  of  'ife;  the  two 
otliei'Ji  felt  tliat  their  existence  still  hunn;  bv  a  liair. 
Kor  was  this  lonn;  witiunit  luini!;  put  to  a  sad  j)roof, 
for  Kene  —  full  of  zeal  for  what  he  thou<i;ht  would 
benetit  the  souls  of  the  vouno;  Indians  —  beinii;  in 
the  habit  of  inakino;  on  them  the  sin;n  of  the  cross, 
liad  taken  a  child's  hand  before  makino-  the  simi  on 
its  brow,  when  an  old  man,  seeintj;  him,  turned  to 
its  father,  and  tohl  him  he  should  kill  that  doo;,  for 
he  was  doinj>'  to  his  boy  what  the  Dutch  had  told 
them  would  not  only  do  no  good,  but  would  do 
harm.  The  advice  was  speedily  acted  on  ;  two 
blows  ot  in  axe  on  his  head,  as  the  two  were  re- 
turnino;  from  ])riiyer  outside  the  villajxe,  stretclied 
the  martyr  lifeless,  and  poor  Rene's  body  was 
then  draii^ed  to  the  bed  of  a  rivulet,  from  which  a 
heav^y  storm  washed  it,  throuii;]i  the  ni<iht,  so  that 
his  comi)ani()ns  could  never  again  find  it.  This 
was  in  September,  1642,  two  months  after  their 
leaving  Three  Rivers.  The  position  of  father 
Jogues  after  this  murder  may  easily  be  imagined. 
His  life,  he  tells  us,  was  as  uncertain  as  the  stay  of 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues. 


253 


a  bird  on  a  brancli,  from  wlii(;li  it  may  fly  at  any 
moment.  But  tlie  <xoo(l  man  liad  devotion  sulH- 
c'ieiit  to  bear  him  np,  amidst  all  evil  and  dann;er. 
His  mind,  kej)t  in  constant  excitement,  found  sup- 
port in  comfortinrr  dreams  that  soothed  his  slum- 
bers. In  these  visions  he  would  see,  at  times,  the 
villajj;e  in  which  he  lived,  and  in  which  lie  had  suf- 
fered  so  much,  changed  to  a  scene  of  surpassing 
glory,  with  the  words  of  Scripture,  written  over  its 
gates,  "  They  shall  praise  Thy  name  ;  "  and  at 
other  times  his  thoughts  in  sleep  w(mld  be  bright- 
ened by  the  belief  that  the  ajxonies  he  had  endured 
were  sent  by  his  Father  m  heaven  to  Ht  him  for 
eternal  joy,  so  that,  he  tells  us,  he  would  often  say 
of  them  when  he  awoke,  "  Thy  rod  and  thy  staff 
they  comfort  me." 

At  the  beginning  of  winter  he  was,  at  last,  given 
to  a  family  as  their  slave,  to  attend  them  in  the 
chase,  to  which  they  went  off  thirty  leagues,  stay- 
in<i!;  two  mcmths  at  it.  Cold  though  it  then  was,  his 
only  clothing  all  this  time  was  a  shirt  and  a  poor 
j)air  of  drawers,  with  leggings,  and  ragged  shoes  of 
soft  leather.  The  thickets  tore  his  skin,  and  his 
feet  were  cut  by  the  stones,  clods,  and  sharp  edges 
of  ice.  Finding  him  useless  in  hunting,  they  set 
him  to  woman's  work,  requiring  him  to  gather  and 
bring  in  logs  for  the  fire.  Half  naked,  chapped  and 
hacked  in  every  part  by  tiie  cold,  this  wfis  a  change 
he  rejoiced  in,  as  it  gave  him  the  great  advantage 
of  privacy,  which,  he  tells  us,  he  employed  for  eight 


lt|!j 


U:!, 


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i>:^ 


251 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues. 


and  ten  hours  togctlier  in  prayer,  before  a  rude 
cross  wliicli  he  had  set  up.  But  his  masters  liaviug 
found  out  how  lie  spent  liis  time,  broke  liis  cross, 
felled  trees  close  to  him  to  terrify  him,  and  when  he 
returned  to  the  wio;wam  with  his  load,  played  him 
a  thousand  cruel  tricks,  to  <i;et  him  to  desist.  One 
would  level  liis  bow  at  him,  as  if  aljout  to  shoot 
liim  ;  another  would  swing  his  axe  over  his  head, 
and  tell  him  he  must  quit  his  charms.  They  de- 
clared that  his  sorceries  spoiled  their  hunting  ;  and 
at  last  conceived  such  a  horror  of  him,  that  tliey 
thought  his  toucii  pollution,  and  would  not  let  him 
use  any  thing  in  the  wigwams.  Had  he  been  willing 
to  join  them  in  tlieir  ways,  it  wouFd  have  fared  dif- 
ferently with  him ;  but,  starving  as  he  had  been, 
he  refused  to  partake  of  the  venison  which  they  had 
in  abundance,  because  they  offered  to  the  spirit  of 
the  chase  all  that  they  took.  As  soon  as  he  knew 
of  this,  he  told  them  plainly  he  could  not  eat  what 
had  been  devoted  to  the  djvil ;  and  fell  back  on  his 
boiled  Indian  corn. 

Having  learned  that  some  old  people  were  about 
to  return  to  the  village,  Jogues  asked  permission  to 
go  thither  with  them.  They  sent  him,  therefore, 
but  without  a  tinder-box,  and  without  shoes,  though 
the  snow  was  now  very  deep  on  the  ground,  it 
being  in  December.  Moreover,  they  made  him 
carry  a  huge  burden  of  smoked  meat  for  the  thirty 
leagues  of  journey  they  had  to  take,  weak  and 
wretched  though  he  was.     At  one  place,  crossing  a 


^    W^ 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues. 


256 


ty   AU 


m 


deep  rivulet,  over  a  felled  tree,  a  squaw,  who  had  an 
infaut  and  a  heavy  load  on  her  back,  and  was  in 
poor  health,  slipped  off  and  fell  into  the  stream  ;  on 
which  Jomies,  seeino;  tliat  her  burden  was  makinji 
her  sink,  threw  off  his  own,  and  plunged  in,  and 
cutting  away  the  thongs,  carried  her  to  the  bank, 
where  the  prompt  kindling  of  a  fire  by  the  Indians, 
alone,  saved  the  three  from  being  frozen  to  death. 
The  little  child  being  very  ill,  he  tells  us  "  he  bap- 
tized it  forthwith  ;  and  in  truth,"  he  adds,  "  sent 
it  to  Paradise,  as  it  died  two  days  after."  How- 
ever we  may  differ  from  him  as  to  the  efficacy  of 
his  act,  we  cannot  withhold  our  admiration  of  the 
noble  s])irit  that  made  him  cling  to  what  he  thought 
a  work  of  duty  and  hjve,  even  in  his  greatest  trials. 
He  had  hirdly  reached  the  village  when  he  was 
sent  back  again  with  a  sack  of  corn,  so  heavy,  that 
what  with  weakness  and  the  slip})eriness  of  the 
ground,  he  lost  his  way,  and  found  himself  back 
agjiin  in  the  camp  before  he  knew  where  he  was. 
Thio  misadventure  was  a  new  cause  of  sutrerino;  for 
Iiim.  Every  ill  name  that  could  be  thought  of  was 
^Ivcn  him,  and,  what  was  much  worse,  he  was  put 
into  a  wigwam  with  the  same  man  who  had  torn 
out  his  nails,  and  who  was  now  lying  in  the  utmost 
filth  and  wretchedness,  through  the  effects  of  some 
putrid  disease.  For  fifteen  days  he  had  to  serve  as 
a  slave  amidst  these  horrors,  until  hi?  owners,  re- 
turning from  the  chase,  took  him  to  their  own 
dwellino;. 


256 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues. 


i  '  ■'  \  ! 


\m 


» 


!:   'i 


I  ■!  i  Hjii 


ii;r  i  I 


During  tl:e  winter,  lie  m<anngecl,  at  great  risk,  to 
visit  tlie  ditt'erent  villages  of  the  Indians,  to  encour- 
age the  Huron  captives.  His  patience,  meanwhile, 
was  gaining  him  the  respect  even  of  such  monsters 
as  these.  The  mother  of  his  host  seemed  touched 
by  his  bearing,  and  this  was  increased  by  liis  kind- 
ness to  one  who  had  been  amono;  his  most  terrihle 
enemies,  but  who  was  now  lying  covered  with 
sores.  Jogues  visited  him  frequently,  consoled  him 
in  his  illness,  and  often  went  to  seek  berries  for  him 
to  refresh  him.  About  ]\Iarch  he  was  taken  by 
his  hosts  to  their  fishing-ground  —  a  deliverance 
from  the  noise  of  the  villaijje  which  was  deliiihtful 
to  him,  though  he  still  had  the  same  work  of  col- 
lectinc;  and  b'-inmno-  in  wood  for  the  fire.  He  \  -.  -. 
now  treated  comparatively  kindly,  but  even  liere 
he  was  in  danger.  A  war  party  had  been  gone  for 
six  months,  and  not  having  been  heard  of,  weix) 
thouo;ht  to  have  been  destroved,  and  this  was,  bv 
at  least  one,  who  had  a  relative  with  it,  attributed 
to  the  enchantments  of  the  missionary.  But,  pro- 
videntially, the  day  before  he  was  to  have  been  killed, 
the  warriors  arrived,  bringing  twenty  prisoners, 
in  torturino;  whom  Jogues  was  forfjotten.  Thev 
forthwith  began  public  rejoicings  ;  scorching,  roast- 
ing, and,  at  last,  eating  these  poor  victims.  "  I 
think,"  savs  Jogues,  "  that  the  devils  in  hell  must 
do  something  the  same,  at  the  coming  of  souls  con 
demned  to  their  flames." 

At  the  end  of  April,  a  Sokokiois  chief  made  his 


I 


JYaT-afive  of  Father  Jogues. 


257 


aijpearnnce  in  the  Iroquois  country,  cliargcfl  with 
presents-  which  lie  came  to  otf'er  for  tlie  ransom  of 
the  missifmarv,  wlio  was  known  aniono;  tlie  tribes 
by  the  name  of  Ondesson.  The  presents,  he  said, 
came  from  tlie  French,  and  he  had  a  letter  from 
the  governor  for  Ondesson.  This  embassy  laiscd 
the  credit  of  Jogues,  and  got  him,  for  the  time, 
some  ])ity  ;  but  they  took  the  })resents,  and  kejtt 
him  still  in  captivity.  At  last,  having  been  sent, 
in  1G48,  to  a  fishery,  which  was  near  a  station  of 
the  Dutch,  he  was  rescued  from  the  clutches  of  his 
tormentors  by  their  head  man,  who,  however,  hav- 
ino;  left  shortly  after,  handed  him  to  the  care  of  a 
subordinate,  at  whose  hands  he  suffered  extremely 
from  hunixer  and  thirst,  and  from  the  fear  of  fallinj; 
again  into  the  power  of  the  Iroquois.  After  a  time, 
he  was  taken  down  tlie  Hudson  to  what  was  then 
the  settlement  of  Manhattan,  but  is  now  the  city 
of  New  York,  and  from  thence  sailed  to  France,  by 
way  of  England.  On  the  loth  January,  1(344,  he 
returned  to  the  colleo;e  of  his  order,  at  Rennes.  In 
the  spring  of  l()4o,  he  was  ready,  once  more,  to 
return  to  Canada,  and  sailed  from  Rochelle  to 
Montreal  ;  and  peace  having  been  made  in  the 
interval  with  the  Iroquois,  he  was  chosen  as  the 
pioneer  of  a  new  mission  among  them.  On  the 
IGth  May,  1()40,  in  company  with  French  officials, 
he  set  out  on  a  preliminary  journey,  to  make  the 
necessary  ))ivpa rations,  and  to  rat'.y  the  peace, 
returning  to  Three  Rivers  in  the  end  of  June. 

22* 


'  •c 


"3 


i  ', 


'         ! 


'   t 


li 


258 


Narrative  of  Father  Jogues. 


Resolved  to  lose  no  time,  now  that  the  way  was 
clear,  in  organizing  his  mission,  tliougli  with  a  pre- 
sentiment that  it  wonld  end  in  his  death,  he  pro- 
ceeded, three  weeks  after,  once  more  on  his  way  to 
the  scene  of  his  former  sufferings,  in  company  with 
a  young  Frenchman,  in  a  canoe,  taking  with  him 
some  Hurons  as  guides.  But  he  went  only  to 
meet  the  death  he  had  forboded.  He  had  hardly 
reached  the  Iroquois  country  when  he  and  his 
companion  were  attacked,  plundered,  stripped 
naked,  and  subjected  to  the  same  menaces  and 
blows  which  he  had  experienced  before.  A  letter 
from  the  Dutch  traders,  some  time  after,  related 
how  their  captors,  on  the  very  day  of  their  arrival, 
told  them  they  Avould  be  killed,  adding,  that  they 
might  be  of  good  cheer,  for  they  would  not  burn 
them,  but  would  simply  cut  off  their  heads,  and 
stick  them  on  the  palisades  of  the  village,  to  let 
other  Frenchmen,  whom  they  expected  to  take,  see 
them  on  their  cominir.  The  immediate  cause  of 
their  murder  was,  that  the  Indians  insisted  that 
Jo^ues  had  left  the  devil  amono;  some  luo;c;ao;e  he 
had  given  them  to  keep  for  him,  and  that  their 
crop  of  Indian  corn  had  thus  been  spoiled.  On 
the  18th  October,  1G46,  the  end  of  his  sufferings 
came  at  last.  Havino;  been  called  from  his  wig- 
warn  to  the  public  lodge  on  that  evening,  to  sup- 
per, an  Indian,  standing  behind  the  door,  split  his 
skull,  and  that  of  his  companion,  with  an  axe  ;  and 
on  the  morrow,  the   gate  of  the  village  was  gar- 


Narrative  of  Father  Joijues. 


2£9 


nished  with  their  disfigured  heads.  Only  or.e 
division  of  the  nation,  however —  that  with  which 
he  hved,  whose  distinguishing  sign  or  title  was  that 
of  the  Bear  —  seems  to  have  been  privy  to  their 
murder.  The  other  two  —  the  divisions  of  the 
Wolf  and  the  Tortoise  —  resented  the  massacre,  as 
if  committed  on  two  members  of  their  own  tribes. 

And  thus  we  take  leave  of  the  Jesuit  martyr  and 
his  remarkable  story. 


'51  J 


■I  ., 


260 


TJie  Medicine-Man, 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


The  medicine-man.  —  Painled  faces.  —  ]Medals.  —  An  Embassy.—. 
RcH^noiis  notions.  —  l-'oast  of  the  dead.  —  Cliristian  Indians.— 
Visit  to  tiie  Indians  on  Lake  Huron.  —  Stolidity  of  the  Indians.— 
Henry  exorcises  an  Indian's  rifle. 


'  if  ti  I 


i 


^PHE  gi'cat  man  among  all  tribes  of  Indians  that 
-*-  are  not  very  greatly  changed  is  the  medicine- 
man —  a  kind  of  sorcerer,  who  acts  at  once  as  priest 
and  physician.  Arrayed  in  a  strange  dress  of  bear- 
skins, or  painted  leather,  with  his  head  hidden  in 
the  scalp  of  some  animal,  or  decorated  with  an 
extraordinary  crest  of  feathers,  this  dignitary  still 
reigns  with  more  power  than  the  chiefs  in  the  out- 
lying portions  of  British  America.  Their  modes 
of  treatment  are  strange  enough.  A  poor  infant, 
in  one  of  the  settlements,  lay  ill  of  fever,  and  the 
mother,  not  knowing  what  to  do  for  it,  summoned 
the  medicine-man  to  her  aid.  He  came  with  his 
assistant,  in  full  costume,  and,  having  entered  the 
wigwam  where  the  poor  httle  creature  lay,  in  a 
bark  cradle,  fillerl  with  the  dust  of  r<^ten  wood, 
beijan  his  doctoring  by  hollowing  a  nvFtic  circle  in 
the  ground  round  it,  within  which  none  but  those 
he  penuitt'-  i  \\'\?re  to  enter.     Tlu;n,  taking  a  drum 


¥m 


Tlie  Medicine-Man. 


261 


wliicli  he  had  with  liim,  or  ratlier,  a  double  tam- 
bourine, filled  inside  with  little  stones,  he  commenced 
rattlino;  it  over  the  child,  sinmno;  meanwhile  with 
all  his  min;ht.  The  noise  was  enouo;h  to  have 
^iven  a  fever  to  a  person  in  health,  and  was  fit  to 
have  killed  a  sick  baby  outright  ;  but  he  kept 
thumping  away,  first  at  its  ears  —  the  little  crea- 
ture crying  with  fright  —  then  at  its  back  and  its 
sides,  till  the  sound  was  wellni<Th  deafenino;.  Next 
came  a  mysterious  course  of  deep  breathing  from 
the  bottom  of  his  stomach,  all  round  the  child's 
body,  which  completed  his  treatment.  Strange  to 
say,  the  child  got  better,  and  of  course  the  faith  in 
the  conjurer  greatly  increased.  "  There  was  a 
black  thing  in  its  inside,"  he  said,  "  which  needed 
to  be  driven  out,  and  he  had  done  it  by  the  noise 
and  singing."  It  must,  indeed,  have  been  in  s})ite 
of  him,  instead  of  by  his  help,  that  the  poor  child 
was  restored. 

The  dress  of  the  Indians  varies  at  different  times, 
and  accordino;  to  the  deo-ree  of  civilization  they  have 
reached.  Here  and  there  you  meet  with  one  who 
has  adopted  European  clothing,  but  these  are  rarely 
seen.  They  held  a  feast  on  a  mound,  by  the  road- 
side, in  the  summer  after  we  went  to  the  river  — 
men,  women,  and  children  mustering  to  take  part 
in  it,  Their  clothing,  except  that  of  one  or  two, 
was  about  the  same  as  usual  —  that  is,  a  shirt  and 
leggings,  or  the  shirt  only  ;  but  their  faces  showed 
a  most  elaborate  care  in  "  the  getting  up."     Paint 


i 


\H  t 


'  i'  '\ 


' 


V.    ' 


,i'  ;  1  ' 


I'M 


w 


ifl 


ii* 


!    •  i   i 


111 


i  ■    ■> 


-■'1  f- 


,::,i 

t 

|li!'!:'i 


262 


Indian  Dancing. 


of  different  colors  was  lavishly  expended  on  them. 
One  had  his  nose  a  bri<2;ht  blue  ;  his  eyes,  eydids, 
and  cheeks,  black  ;  and  the  rest  of  his  face  a  lively 
red.  Others  had  streaks  of  red,  black,  and  blue, 
drawn  from  the  ears  to  the  mouth.  Others  were 
all  black,  except  the  top  of  the  f(jrehead,  and  the 
parts  round  the  ears,  and  the  tip  of  the  chin.  Two 
lads  amused  me  by  the  pride  they  evidently  took  in 
their  faces  ;  that  of  the  one  being  ornamented  by  a 
stroke  of  vermilion,  broad  and  bright,  upward  and 
downward,  from  each  corner  of  the  mouth,  in  a 
slanting  direction  ;  while  that  of  the  other  rejoiced 
in  a  broad  streak  of  red  and  blue,  straight  across 
his  cheeks,  from  each  side  of  his  nose.  The 
solemnities  consisted  of  speechessfrom  their  orators, 
which  were  fluent  enough,  and  were  accompanied 
with  a  great  deal  of  gesticulation,  but  were  totally 
incomprehensible  to  me.  Then  followed  a  dance, 
in  which  all  the  men  joined  ;  some  women,  sitting 
in  the  middle,  beating  a  rude  drum  with  a  bone, 
while  the  men  formed  in  a  circle  outside,  and  each 
commenced  moving  slowly  round,  lifting  his  legs  as 
high  as  possible,  at  the  risk,  I  thought,  of  throwing 
the  dancer  before  him  off  his  balance,  bv  some 
unhappy  accident,  which,  however,  they  w^ere  skil- 
ful enough  to  avoid.  Meanwhile,  the  orchestra 
kept  up  a  monotonous  thumping,  accompanied  by 
a  continuous  grunting  noise,  which  passed  for  sing- 
ing:. There  could  be  nothinor  more  ludicrous  than 
to  see  them  with  all  solemnity  pacing  round,  each 


Indian  Loyalty. 


263 


with  a  leg  in  the  air,  as  if  they  had  been  doing 
something  awfully  important.  Dancing  ended, 
the  reward  of  their  labors  followed.  A  huge  kettle, 
hanging  from  a  stout  pole,  over  a  fire  close  by, 
proved  to  have  for  its  contents  the  carcass  of  a 
large  dog  —  one  of  the  many  who  prowl  round  all 
wiiiwams  —  but  it  must  have  been  fattened  for 
the  occasion,  as  they  are  lean  enough  generally. 
Hands  and  mouths  were  the  only  implements  for 
the  repast,  but  they  served  the  [lurpose.  The  })oor 
dog  made  its  way,  with  amazing  ra|)idity,  down  the 
crowd  of  hungry  throats  ;  but  the  sight  so  disgusted 
IRC  that  I  hastily  left  them. 

The  Indians  are  very  loyal  in  every  part  of 
British  America.  A  number  of  old  men  are  still 
alive  who  hold  medals  for  their  services  in  the  war 
of  1812-14  with  the  United  States,  and  very  proud 
they  are  of  them.  I  remember  finding  a  deputation 
from  some  tribe  returnino;  from  a  visit  to  the  Gov- 
ernor-General,  on  board  one  of  the  lake  steamers, 
and  was  struck  with  the  great  silver  medal,  almost 
like  a  porter's  badge,  which  the  eldest  wore  on  his 
breast,  with  the  well-known  profile  of  King  George 
III.  on  it.  By  the  way,  one  of  the  three  or  four 
Indians  of  the  party  was  the  handsomest  man  of 
the  race  I  ever  saw  —  tall,  of  full  figure,  w.tli  ex- 
quisite features,  and  soft  curling  hair.  He  must 
surely  have  been  partly  white.  The  dress  they  wore 
showed  strikingly  the  meeting  of  the  old  wildnesa 
and  the  new  civilization.     That  of  the  old  bearer 


1 

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Indian  Loyalty. 


of  the  medal  consisted  of  ii  very  brijad-briinined, 
liigli-erowned,  and  hroad-belted  blaek  hat  —  such 
a  liut  as  I  never  saw  except  anion^j;  the  Indians, 
and  which  nnist  liave  been  niade  from  a  pattern 
specially  designed  to  please  them  by  its  extraoiili- 
nary  size  ;  a  light  brown  shabby  fi'ock-coat,  with 
very  short  tails  and  large  brass  buttons ;  a  great 
white  blanket  thrown  over  it,  and  a  pair  of  ordinary 
trowsers,  with  moccasins  on  his  feet,  'completing  the 
costume.  There  was  a  great  slit  in  his  ears  for 
ornaments ;  a  string  of  wamjmm  hung  round  his 
neck,  and  in  one  hand  lay  a  long  Indian  pipe,  while, 
from  the  other,  the  skin  of  a  fox,  made  into  a 
tobacco-pouch,  hung  at  his  side.  One  of  the  others 
had  leggino;s  instead  of  trowsers,  with  broad  bands 
of  beads  at  the  knees  to  fasten  them,  and  a  bag 
about  the  size  of  a  lady's  reticule,  wuth  a  deej)  fringe 
of  green  threads  nine  or  ten  inches  long,  all  round 
it,  hung  from  his  arm.  I  have  no  doubt  that  even 
the  feeble  remnant  of  the  race  that  still  survives 
would  at  once  otfer  to  fight  for  our  Queen  if  their 
services  should  ever  unfortunately  be  needed. 
"  Their  great  motlier  across  the  waters  "  is  the  object 
of  as  much  loyal  pride  to  them  as  to  any  of  her 
countless  subjects.  Some  years  ago  a  United  States 
officer  was  removing  some  Indians  from  the  settled 
parts  to  the  other  side  of  the  Mississippi,  and  had 
encamped  one  day,  when  he  saw  a  party  approach- 
ing. Taking  out  his  glass,  he  found  that  they  were 
Indians,  and  forthwith  sent  off  an  Indian  from  liis 


V" 


llelijioiCH  Notions. 


205 


-  such 
(liuns, 

UttL'l'U 

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diiuuy 
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ars  for 
ikI  his 
while, 
into  a 
5  others 
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*  a  bag 
fringe 
round 
at  even 
urvives 
if  their 
Ineeded. 
e  object 
of  her 
States 
settled 
nd  had 
proach- 
ey  w^ere 
:om  liis 


own  band  to  meet  them,  with  the  stars  and  stripes 
on  a  Haii'.  No  sooner  was  tlu;  republican  bainuT 
displayed,  tlian,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  olticer, 
the  strange  In<lian  unrolled  the  Rkt)  Cross  of  St. 
George,  and  held  It  up  as  that  under  which  he 
ranscd.  The  American  wanted  him  to  exchanfje 
Han;s,  but  he  would  not ;  i\)\\  said  he,  "  I  live  near 
tlic  Hudson  Bay  Company,  and  they  gave  me  tliis 
flao",  and  told  me  that  it  came  from  mv  oreat  mother 
across  the  great  waters,  {\nd  would  protect  me  and 
my  wife  and  children,  wherever  we  might  go.  I 
have  found  it  is  true  as  the  white  man  said,  and  1 
will  7U'ver  part  with  it.''^ 

One  of  the  most  intelligent  Indians  I  ever  met 
was  a  missionary  anion n;  his  countrvmen  in  the  Fjir 
West,  who  happened  to  be  on  a  steamer  with  me. 
He  gave  me  a  great  deal  of  information  respecting 
the  religious  notions  of  his  people,  one  part  of  which 
I  thouo-ht  very  curious.  He  said  that  the  Indians 
believed  that,  at  death,  the  spirits  of  men  went  to 
the  west,  and  came  to  a  broad  river,  over  which 
there  was  no  bridge  but  the  trunks  of  trees  laid  end- 
wise across.  On  the  further  side  stretched  prairies 
abounding  with  all  kinds  of  game,  and  every  possible 
attraction  to  the  Indian,  to  reach  which,  every  one, 
as  he  came,  ventured  on  the  r)erilous  path  that 
offered  the  means  of  fjettino;  over.  But  the  wicked 
could  not,  by  any  means,  keep  their  footing.  The 
logs  rolled  about  under  them  till  they  slipped  in^o 
the  river,  which  bore  them  hopelessly  away.     The 

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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY    14580 

(716)  872-4503 


266 


Feast  of  the  Dead, 


good  Indian,  on  the  contrary,  found  every  thing 
easy.  The  logs  lay  perfectly  still  beneath  his  tread, 
some  kind  influence  kept  him  safely  poised  at  each 
treacherous  step,  and  he  landed  safe  and  haj^py, 
amidst  loud  welcomes,  on  the  amber  bank_  beyond. 
The  poor  creatures  seem  to  think  that  their  friends 
need  many  things  after  death  to  which  they  have 
been  used  in  life.  Lonely  graves  may  be  often 
seen  in  the  woods,  or,  perhaps,  they  only  seem 
lonely  from  the  others  having  sunk  down,  and  in 
them,  as  in  those  which  are  gathered  together  in 
the  common  burial-places  of  the  dilierent  reserves, 
beneath  a  little  birch-bark  roof  raised  over  them, 
the  surviving  friends  put,  j)eriodically,  presents  of 
rice,  tobacco,  and  other  Indian  delights.  It  used 
to  be  the  habit  in  all  parts  of  Canada,  as  I  have 
been  told  it  still  is  in  the  distant  places  of  the  Con- 
tinent, to  gather  all  the  dead  of  a  nation  together, 
fi'om  time  to  time,  and  bury  them  in  a  common 
grave.  Twelve  years  were  allowed  to  pass,  and 
then  the  old  men  and  the  notables  of  the  different 
divisions  of  the  tribe  assembled  and  decided  when 
they  would  hold  "  the  feast,"  for  so  they  called  it, 
so  as  to  please  each  section  and  the  allied  tribes  as 
well.  This  fixed,  as  all  the  corpses  had  to  bo 
brought  to  the  village  where  the  common  grave 
had  been  dug,  each  family  made  arrangements 
respecting  its  dead,  with  a  care  and  affection  which 
were  very  touching.  If  they  had  parents  dead  in 
any  part  of  the  country,  they  spared  no  pains  to 


1 


Feast  of  the  Dead. 


2G7 


bring  their  bodies ;  tbey  lifted  tliem  from  their 
graves,  and  boie  tliem  on  their  slioulders,  covered 
\\\{\\  tlieir  best  robes.  On  a  fjiven  day  the  people 
of  each  villa<j;e  went  to  their  own  cemetery,  where 
tlie  persons  who  had  charfje  of  it  —  for  there  wqyq 
parties  ajipointed  to  this  office  —  raised  the  bodies 
in  presence  of  the  survivors,  who  renewed  the 
(Trief  they  exhibited  on  the  dav  of  their  Hrst  burial. 
All  the  corpses  were  rano;cd  side  by  side,  and,  being 
uncovered,  were  exposed  thus  for  a  considerable 
time,  that  all  around  might  see  what  they  would 
themselves  soirte  day  become.  You  may  think  what 
a  sight  this  must  have  been  ;  some  of  the  bodies 
mere  skeletons,  some  like  mummies,  and  others 
mere  shapeless  corruption.  Those  which  were  not 
reduced  to  skeletons  were,  after  a  little,  strip})ed  of 
tlieir  flesh  and  skin,  which,  with  the  robes  in  which 
tliey  had  been  buried,  were  burned.  The  bodies 
which  were  still  uncorrupted  were  merely  wrapped 
in  skins,  but  the  bones,  when  thoroughly  cleaned, 
were  put  in  sacks  or  in  robes,  and  laid  on  their 
slioulders,  and  then  covered  with  another  skin  out- 
side. The  perfect  corpses  were  put  on  a  kind  of 
bier,  and,  with  all  the  rest,  were  taken  each  to  its 
own  wigwam,  where  the  several  households  held, 
each,  a  feast  to  its  dead. 

They  have  a  curious  idea  respecting  the  soul,  as 
the  reason  of  this  strange  custom  —  at  least  those  of 
them  who,  not  bomg  as  yet  Christians,  still  practise 
it.     They  think  that  the  dead  have  two  ?ouls,  dis- 


^l^p 


I  * 
■I:  ^ 


i      ^1 


268 


Feast  of  the  Dead. 


tinct  and  material,  but  each  endowed  with  reason. 
Tlie  one  separates  itself  from  the  body  at  death, 
and  hovers  over  the  burial-i)lace,  till  the  Feast  of 
tlie  Dead,  after  which  it  is  turned  into  a  turtle- 
dove, or  goes  strain-lit  to  the  Land  of  Spirits.  The 
other  is,  as  it  were,  attached  to  the  body,  and  still 
remains  in  the  common  grave,  after  the  feast  is 
over,  never  leaving  it  unless  to  enter  the  body  of  an 
infant,  which  the  likeness  of  many  of  the  livinfj  to 
those  who  have  died  seems  to  them  a  proof  that 
they  do. 

When  the  feast  is  over,  all  the  dftid  of  each  vil- 
lage are  taken  to  a  large  wigwam,  set  apart  for  tlie 
purpose,  and  fdled  with  poles  and  rods,  from  which 
the  perfect  bodies  and  the  bags  of  bones  are  hung, 
along  with  countless  gifts  which  the  relatives  pre- 
sent, in  the  name  of  the  dead,  to  some  of  their  liv- 
ing friends.     This    display  of  their  riches  accom- 
plished, it  remain,  only  to  take  the  ghastly  loads  to 
the   common    grave  on  the  day  appointed,  which 
they  do  with  frequent  cries,  which  they  say  lighten 
the  weiijht  and   secure  the   bearers   from  disease. 
At  the  central  rendezvous,  the  same  hann-ino;  of  the 
corpses  on  poles,  and  the  same  display  of  presents, 
is  again  made,  and,  then  amidst  terrible  cries  and 
confusion,  the  whole  are  put  into  the  general  burial- 
pit,  which  is  lined  underneath  with  sable  furs,  to 
make  the  spirits  happy  in  their  homes  in  the  other 
world.     But  they  do  not  bury  the  presents  with 
them,  nor  the  outer  skins  in  which  they  were  wrap- 


Christian  Indians. 


269 


ped ;  these  tlicy  retain  for  themselves.  In  some 
trihes,  in  former  times,  a  f]rreat  mound  or  barrow 
lieaped  over  the  spot  marked  the  resting-place  of 
the  multitude,  in  others  the  ground  was  simply 
levelled,  and  then,  after  rejoicings  in  their  own  wild 
way  till  they  were  tired,  the  living  crowd  dispersed, 
each  ])arty  to  its  own  village.* 

A  threat  chanw  has  come  over  the  customs  and 
feelings  of  many  of  the  Indians,  since  missionaries 
went  amone;  them,  and  thouo-h  in  old  settlements 
you  often  meet  Pagans  even  yet,  there  are  others 
who  give  the  best  proofs  that  they  are  true  Chris- 
tians. It  is  delio-htfui  to  see  them  on  the  Sabbath, 
wending  their  way,  calm,  and  in  a  right  mind,  to 
their  lowly  church,  tlirougd  the  glades  of  the  forest ; 
and  wild  though  the  sound  often  is,  I  have  listened 
to  their  singing  the  glorious  praises  of  God  with  an 
interest  which  I  hardly  ever  felt  in  any  more  civil- 
ized gathering.  One  of  the  hymns  which  have  been 
made  expressly  for  them,  and  of  which  they  are 
especially  fond,  has  always  struck  me  as  particularly 
touching,  by  its  exact  appreciation  of  an  Indian's 
feelings,  and  its  remarkably  skilful  adaptation  to 
their  broken  Eno;lish.  I  feel  sure  it  has  never 
appeared  in  print  before,  at  least  in  Britain,  as  I 
got  it  from  a  missionary  in  Nova  Scotia,  who  knew 
the  author,  himself  a  missionary,  and  told   me  it 

*  Nothing  like  this  is  done  in  Canada  now,  so  far  as  I  know, 

but  in  the  "  Relations  des  Jesuites  "  it  is  spoken  of  as  the  general 

custom. 

28* 


I 


I 


<*i| 


!■'■ 


'I    ' 

.         t 


;>    ;V 


lU 


270 


Indian  Hymn. 


existed    only  in   manuscript,  so  far   as  he   knew 
Here  it  is : 


"THE  INDIAN'S  PRAYEB. 

"  In  (Ic  (lark  wood,  no  Liflian  nigh, 
Don  nic  look  li(.'l)'ii,  and  send  up  cry, 

Ui)on  my  knee  so  low ; 
Dat  (Jod  on  liigli,  in  shiny  place, 
See  inc  in  nijrht  wid  teary  faee, 
INlv  heart,  him  tell  me  so, 

"  Iliui  send  him  angel,  take  me  care, 
Iliin  come  himself,  and  hcarum  prayer, 

If  Indian  heart  do  pray. 
Him  see  mc  now,  him  know  mc  here, 
Him  say,  '  Poor  Indian,  never  fear, 

Ale  wid  you  night  and  day.' 

"  So  mc  lub  God  wid  inside  heart. 
He  tight  for  me,  he  takum  part, 

He  sahe  em  life  before. 
God  luh  poor  Indian  in  de  wood, 
And  mc  lul)  He,  and  dat  be  good. 

Me  pray  Him  two  time  more. 

"When  mc  be  old,  mc  head  be  gray, 
Den  Him  no  Icab  me,  so  Him  say, 

'  Me  wid  you  till  you  die.' 
Den  take  me  up  to  shiny  place, 
See  white  man,  red  man,  black  man  face 
All  happy  'like  *  on  high." 


One  day,  in  the  second  summer  we  were  on  the 


«  t.  e.  I  alike. 


Lake  Huron. 


271 


river,  the  clertiyinan  asked  me,  in  passing,  if  I 
would  like  to  go  up  Lake  Huron  with  him,  on  a 
missionary  visit  to  a  settlement  of  Indians,  and  of 
course  I  told  him  I  sliould.  It  was  soon  settled 
when  we  sliould  start,  which  we  did  in  a  little  boat, 
two  men  iioiiiii'  with  us  to  take  charge  of  it.  We 
had  oars  with  us,  but  the  boat  was  too  heavy  for 
their  easy  use,  and  we  trusted  to  a  sail,  the  cord 
from  which  one  of  us  held  in  his  hand,  to  prevent 
any  sudden  gust  from  upsetting  us.  We  were 
soon  out  on  the  glorious  Lake  Huron,  which,  like 
all  the  gi'cat  lakes,  cannot  be  distinguished  from 
the  sea  by  ordinary  eyes ;  but  we  did  not  attempt 
to  get  out  of  sight  of  the  coast,  intending  to  run 
into  it  if  any  sudden  storm  should  rise.  As  dark- 
ness set  in,  the  sight  overhead  was  beautiful  beyond 
any  thing,  I  think,  I  ever  saw.  The  stars  came 
out  so  large  and  bright,  that  it  seemed  as  if  you 
could  see  behind  them  intc  the  depths  beyond. 
They  seemed  to  hang  down  like  globes  of  light 
from  the  great  canopy  of  the  heavens.  It  was 
deliciously  calm,  the  soft  wind  from  behind,  as  it 
gently  swelled  the  sail,  serving  to  make  the  feeling 
of  repose  the  more  perfect.  After  sailing  a  day 
and  a  night,  and  the  half  of  the  next  day,  we  at 
last  reached  the  point  where  we  were  to  land  —  a 
narrow  tongue  of  sand,  along  which  a  stream,  flow- 
ing through  an  opening  in  the  sand-hills  that  line 
the  coast,  crept  into  the  lake.  It  took  us  the  rest 
of  the  afternoon  to  row  as  far  as  we  wished,  and 


I 

i 


'II 

!,*^ 


!  =  i 


■\M 


!l<;  ':li 


im 


272 


A  Niijlit  of  Horrors. 


to  get  our  supper  of  beef  aiul  soiue  liard  ef;<i;s,  with 
a  euj)  of  U'ii,  witliout  milk,  wliicli  we  got  ready  at 
a  fire  ou  tlie  l)eaeii.  Tlie  water  we  liad  to  usu 
was  our  gieatest  trouble.  It  was  nearly  the  color 
of*  ink,  fVoui  tlie  swamps  through  whieh  it  had 
flowed,  and  made  our  tea  the  reverse  of  pleasant  in 
taste  ;  but  there  was  no  choice,  so  that  we  madi; 
ourselves  as  contented  as  possible.  Accommoda- 
tion for  the  night  was  soon  provided  by  stretching 
the  sail  over  the  mast,  wliich  was  laid  on  two 
forked  poles,  a  yard  or  so  from  the  ground.  Tiiis 
gave  room  for  two ;  the  other  two  were  to  sleej» 
on  the  ground  without  this  apology  for  a  covering 
A  huge  fire,  kindled  close  to  us,  served  to  keep  off' 
the  mosquitoes,  or  rather  was  intended  to  do  so 
Wrapping  an  old  buffalo  robe,  or  a  quilt,  round  each 
of  us,  we  were  soon  stretched  out  to  try  to  get 
sleep  :  but  its  sweet  delight  kept  far  enougli  from 
us  all.  Oh  !  the  horrors  of  that  night.  The  mos- 
quitoes,  came  down  like  the  wolves  on  a  fold, 
piercing  through  smoke  and  fire,  and  searching  in 
the  dark  but  too  successfully  for  our  noses,  cheeks, 
and  hands.  The  ants,  too,  were  in  myriads,  and 
made  their  way  up  our  boots  to  any  height  they 
thought  proper.  Once  in,  there  was  no  getting 
these  })lagues  out.  We  rose,  went  through  every 
form  of  tr()ul)le  to  rid  ourselves  of  them,  but  some 
still  remained  to  torment  us  after  each  eflort. 
Then  the  smoke  itself  was  fit  to  make  one 
wretched.     It  swept  in,  fn  clouds,  as  often  as  tlie 


:;m  ;. 


Negotiation  with  an  Indian. 


273 


fire  was  stirred.  At  last,  liowever,  morning  came, 
and,  with  its  first  dawn,  we  were  up  for  the  day  ; 
but  what  fi<i;iires  we  presented  !  My  worthy  triend's 
nose  seenir'd  to  have  been  turned  uj)side  down 
in  tlie  ni^lit,  the  nios(juito-bites  liavini!;  made  it 
nuicli  tliicker  near  tlie  eyes  tlian  at  the  bottom.  It 
was  irresistibly  lau«;hable  to  us  all,  except  the 
unfortunate  bearer,  who  was  really  unwell,  partly 
through  the  mosquitoes,  partly  through  the  expos- 
ure. Luckily  for  our  breakfast,  a  Potowattomie 
Indian  —  a  short  old  man,  in  a  shirt,  leggings,  and 
moccasins,  and  crowned  with  a  tremendous  hat  — 
came  in  sight  as  we  were  busy  preparing  it  with 
some  more  of  the  villanous  water.  He  was  soon 
amongst  us,  desiring  to  see  wliat  we  were,  and 
vvhat  we  were  doing,  and,  fortunately  for  us,  the 
contents  of  the  kettle  attracted  his  attention.  With 
unmistakable  signs  of  disgust,  he  urged  us  to  throw 
it  out  forthw  ith,  and  very  kindly  went  to  the  side 
of  the  river,  and,  by  scooping  out  the  sand  at  the 
side,  close  to  the  stream,  with  his  hands,  obtained 
at  once  a  little  well  of  water  clear  as  crystal,  which 
we  most  gladly  substituted  for  the  liquid  we  had 
been  using.  Meanwhile,  an  animated  negotiation 
was  being  carried  on  with  our  benefactor  as  to  the 
terms  he  wished  to  make  for  guiding  us  to  the  In- 
dian settlement  —  grunts  and  dumb  show  having 
to  do  the  work  of  words.  A  few  charges  of  j^ow- 
der  and  shot,  at  last,  secured  his  services,  and  ere 
long,  aJl  being  ready,  we  set  out.     Our  route  led 


'V 

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III 


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II 

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1^1^^^ 

274 


An  Indian  tb'cUlement, 


us  directly  inland,  over  the  lin<i;(^  barrier  of  sand, 
with  which  the  ed^e  of  Lake  Huron,  at  that  part, 
is  <(uarded.  From  its  top  we  looked,  far  and  near, 
over  the  forest,  which,  close  at  hand,  was  very  mis- 
erable and  stunted,  from  the  hinderance  to  any 
chance  of  drainage  offered  by  the  hill  on  which  we 
stood.  At  a  distance,  however,  it  rose  in  all  its 
unbroken  and  boundless  grandeur  —  the  very  imago 
of  vastness  and  solitude.  Descendinji  the  inner 
8loj)e,  we  were  soon  making  the  best  of  our  way 
across  the  brown  water  of  successive  swamps,  with 
thin  trees  felled,  one  beyond  another,  as  the  only 
bridges.  "  Mind  your  feet  there,  George,"  cried 
my  friend,  as  I  was  making  my  way,  Blondin  fash- 
ion, across  one  ;  but  he  had  more  need  to  mind  his 
own,  for  the  next  minute  he  was  up  to  the  knees  in 
water  of  the  color  of  coffee.  An  hour's  walking 
brought  us  to  the  settlement,  which  consisted  of  a 
number  of  wigwamsi,  raised  among  very  small 
clearings,  a  log-house  at  one  part  marking  the  inter- 
preter's house  — himself  an  Indian.  A  messenger 
liaving  been  sent  round,  we  had  before  long  a  con- 
gregation in  the  chaj)el,  which  was  a  log-house, 
without  seats,  but  with  a  desk  at  the  one  end,  the 
other  being  appropriated,  in  great  part,  to  the  door, 
which  was  larj^e  enoucjjh  to  have  served  for  the 
door  of  a  barn.  The  squaws,  in  blankets,  and 
blue  cloth  petticoats,  and  leggings,  with  large  silver 
brooches  on  their  bosoms,  and  bare  heads,  scjuatted 
down  on  the  one  side  ;  the  men,  in  all  varieties  of 


Stolidity  of  the  Indians. 


276 


costume,  from  a  shirt  upwards,  took  possession  of 
the  other ;  the  door  standing  open  during  'the 
whole  service,  so  tliat  we,  at  tlie  upper  end,  looked 
out  into  the  tbrest,  which  was  close  at  hand.  The 
dogs,  of  course,  formed  })art  of  the  audience,  some 
of  them  lying  in  the  open  space  of  the  middle,  and 
uthers  at  the  door.  One,  which  was  more  trouble- 
some than  the  others  during  the  service,  walked 
straight  up  the  middle,  and  stood  looking  the  cler- 
gyman in  the  face,  to  his  no  small  annoyance,  but 
was  soon  made  to  suffer  for  his  want  of  respect. 
One  of  the  men  rose,  silently  as  a  shadow,  and 
slipped  up  behind  the  four-legged  hearer  till  he 
came  close  to  liis  long  tail ;  on  this  his  hands 
closed  in  a  moment,  and  then  away  went  the  poor 
brute,  with  a  great  swing,  over  his  head,  in  a  suc- 
cession of  summersaults  to  the  door,  out  of  which, 
when  it  reached  the  ground,  it  rushed  with  pro- 
longed howls,  and  was  seen  no  more  while  we  were 
there.  Not  a  countenance  moved  while  this 
extraordinary  ejectment  was  being  effected,  and  the 
Indian  himself  resumed  his  place  as  solemnly  as  if 
he  had  been  performing  only  an  ordinary  duty. 
It  was  very  slow  work  to  speak  through  the  inter- 
preter, but  the  Indians  sat  it  out  with  patient  forti- 
tude, trying  as  it  must  have  been  to  these  wild 
creatures,  so  little  prone  to  sedentary  occupation, 
to  listen  to  such  a  tedious  process.  A  walk  back, 
after  all  was  over,  brought  us  to  our  boat,  which 
we  had  left  on  the  beach,  and  in  due  time,  after  a 


^■*V 


I 


}<•  1 


\  n 


•i^i 


1376 


tStoUilitij  of  the  Indians. 


t  i 


]»leasant  sail,  \vc  swt'pt  down  tlie    St.  Clair  once 
more,  <«;l;v(l  cnou^iili  to  «^t't  satMy  home  atxain. 

The  i)ert'ect  stoliditv  of  the  Indians  nnder  anv 
amount  ot"  excitement  is  wonderl'nl  —  unless,  in- 
deed, under  the  intiuence  ot"  whisj^ey,  or  exeitcd 
hy  the  pursuit  of  hunting-  —  for,  usually,  you  mij^lit 
as  nell  expect  to  move  the  features  of  an  imaire  as 
theirs.  When  railroads  were  introduced  into  Can- 
ada, they  were  a  scan-ce  of  wonder  to  every  one 
■who  had  not  seen  them,  the  Indians  alone  exce|)ted. 
Tliey  did  not  even  spare  a  <!;runt,  hut  marched  into 
the  carria<;es  with  the  same  composure  as  if  they 
had  been  familiar  with  them  from  their  chilrlhood. 
In  anv  house  they  may  enter,  you  c;ni  detect  no 
sign  of  curiosity,  still  less  of  wonder,  in  any  of  their 
movements.  The  same  cast-iron  physioixnomy  is 
kept  from  the  first  to  the  last,  whatever  objects  of 
interest  you  may  have  to  show  them. 

It  is  very  hard  for  us  to  realize  how  difficult  it  is 
to  get  a  new  idea  into  such  minds.  A  minister  of 
my  acquaintance,  who  lived  among  the  Indians, 
told  me  what  great  trouble  he  had  to  teach  them 
the  use  of  a  mill.  He  had  got  them  to  grow  some 
wheat,  and  to  cut  it  down,  by  doing  a  large  part 
of  the  work  himself;  and  when  the  time  came  to  turn 
it  into  flour,  he  had  to  help  to  put  it  into  sacks,  to  help 
to  get  it  into  a  canoe,  to  go  witii  them  to  the  mill, 
to  show  them  how  to  give  it  to  the  miller,  get  back 
the  flour,  get  it  put  into  the  sacks  again,  and  then 
into  the  canoe,  and   paddle   homo.     Every  thing 


lyidian  Superstition, 


277 


nr  once 


had    to    be  acted    before  they   would  do   it    thcm- 
.selves. 

As  nil<:;]it  be  exjx'cted,  tliey  are  superstitious  in 
pn^jiortion  to  their  i<:;noraiu'e.  One  (hiy,  an  Intiian 
<anie  to  llenrv  in  threat  (hstress,  tellini;  liini  his 
<:un  was  bewitched,  and  couM  not  shoot  strai;:;lit, 
Mild  askino-  liim  it"  he  could  njak'.'  it  ri^ht.  Henry, 
of  course,  knew  that  tlic  :  oor  I'eMow  was  oidy 
lahorin"^  unch'r  a  dehision,  and  at  once  told  him  he 
wouhl  make  it  all  ri^dit.  'le,  tlierefo'*-  ,  asked  Iwin 
to  let  him  iiave  it  for  the  ni(i;ht,  liis  wish  bein<r  t(| 
have  an  (/ppertunity  of  cleaning  it  thoroughly. 
Ilavinn;  made  it  all  ri^ihc,  ou  tlic  Indian's  return 
.le  handed  it  to  him,  with  all  j-olemnity.  tellinf;  him 
it  was  perfectly  cured  now.  '*  Me  shoot  ten  days 
—  get  nothing,"  sjiid  the  unfortunate  sportsman. 
"  It's  all  riglit,  now,  though,"  rejdied  Henry,  assur- 
ing him,  besides,  that  there  were  no  more  witches 
about  it.  Some  time  after,  we  were  sur})rised  by 
an  Indian's  coming  to  tlie  house  with  the  liind 
legs  of  a  deer,  telling  us  they  were  from  the  Indian 
for  the  *'  man  cured  gnu."  Henry  was  from  home 
at  the  time,  and  as  he  had  said  nothinif  about  his 
unbewitching  the  weapon,  the  gift  wiis  a  mystery 
until  his  return.  The  gratitude  shown  for  so  small 
a  favor  was  very  touching,  and  impressed  us  all  in 
the  Indian's  favor.  He  must  have  published 
Henry's  wonderful  powers,  as  well  as  rewarded 
them,  for  that  same  winter  another  Indian  came 

U)  him  in  the  woods,  where  he  hap|)ened    to  be, 

2i 


I 


TSf 


111         l-f 


% 


1 

% 

1 

% 

278 


Indian  Superstition. 


\-i% 


with  the  same  story,  tluit  his  rifle  was  bewitched, 
and  would  not  slioot.  With  a  good  deal  of  sly 
humor,  Henry  determined  to  ])lay  the  conjurer 
this  time,  as  he  had  no  chance  of  getting  the  weap- 
on home.  He  therefore  told  the  Indian  to  sit 
down,  and  then  drew  a  circle  round  him  and  the 
infected  rifle,  and  proceeded  to  walk  mysteriously 
round  him,  uttering  all  the  while  any  amount  of 
gibberish  he  could  think  of,  and  making  magic 
passes  in  all  directions.  After  re])eating  this  a 
number  of  times,  he  took  the  rifle  into  his  hands, 
and  proceeded  to  examine  it  carefully,  and  seeing 
that  it  was  in  perfect  order,  lie  announced  the  cere- 
mony to  be  complete,  and  handed  it  back  again, 
with  the  assurance  that  he  was  not  to  be  afraid  of 
it,  that  he  had  only  to  take  a  good  aim,  and  that 
there  were  no  witches  about  it  now.  The  Indian 
gininted  thanks,  and  made  oft*:  and  Henry  heard 
no  more  of  it  till,  some  months  after,  wdien  ho  hap- 
pened to  be  in  a  neighboring  village,  the  subject 
of  his  charms,  to  his  surj)rise,  came  up  to  him,  and 
told  him  "  he  must  be  great  doctor  —  Indian's  gun 
shoot  right  ever  since  he  cured  it."  Henry 
answered  that  it  had  needed  no  cure,  and  that  he 
had  only  done  what  he  did  because  the  Indian 
would  not  have  believed  his  rifle  was  right  if  he 
had  not  done  something.  WHiat  the  eftect  was  on 
the  Indian's  notions  I  know  not,  but  we  certainly 
heard  no  more  of  bewitched  rifles. 


,»! 


Tlie  Hamming-hird, 


279 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

The  humining-bird.  —  Story  of  a  pet.  —  Canada  u  good  country  fol 
pov^r  men. —  A  bush  story  of  misfortune.  —  Statute  hibor.  —  Tor- 
toises.—  The  hay  season.  —  Our  wagon-driving.  —  Henry  and  I 
are  nearly  drowned.  —  Henry  falls  ill.  —  Backwoods  doctors. 

IT  was  in  May  of  the  second  year  I  first  noticed 
the  humming-bird.  There  are  different  species 
in  Canada  in  summer,  but  all  seem  equally  beauti- 
ful. When  I  first  saw  one,  it  was  like  a  living 
gem,  darting  hither  and  thither  in  the  open  round 
the  house,  never  resting  but  for  a  few  moments, 
while  it  poised  itself  on  its  lovely  wings,  which 
seemed  motionless  from  the  very  rapidity  of  their 
vibration.  No  bird  flies  so  fast,  small  though  it  be, 
so  that  it  is  impossible  to  follow  it  as  it  darts  from 
spot  to  spot.  Later  in  the  season,  a  bunch  of  flow- 
ers, at  an  open  window,  was  pretty  sure  to  bring 
one  quivering  over  them,  preparatory  to  thrusting 
its  long  thin  bill  into  the  cups,  to  drink  the  sweets 
that  lay  at  the  bottom.  Sometimes  in  the  even- 
ings, they  might  be  seen,  for  half  an  hour  at  a 
time,  darting  at  the  little  clouds  of  flies  which 
dance  in  the  air,  under  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
or  in  the  open,  —  retiring  to  a  twig  to  rest  when 


yfeiMM 

^  ''^^WIB 

1  :|||| 

1- 

llll 

i;bllll 

:■ '  i! 

liUBB 

.iff'l 


V.J}i 


I 


: 


1 

;      '■  V 

1 

^ 

^'n  I 


* ' . ' 


i     J 


> : 


,1 

i 

ii. 

280 


The  Humming-hird, 


tired.  They  seem,  for  a  great  part  of  tlieir  time, 
to  feed  on  such  insects,  the  stomach  of  several 
humming-birds,  I  have  heard,  liaving  been  found 
full  of  them  when  opened.  There  is  a  charming 
account  in  a  Philadelphia  magazine  of  one  vvhicli 
showed  greater  familiarity  with  man  than  has  ever 
been  known  from  any  other  of  its  species.*  One 
of  the  younoj  ladies  of  a  family  was  sitting  at  an 
open  window,  when  a  humming-bird  flew  in,  very 
feebly,  and  dropped  on  the  floor,  apparently 
exhausted.  To  pick  it  up  was  the  work  of  a 
moment ;  and  the  thought  that  it  might  be  tired 
and  hungry,  after  a  long  flight,  forthwith  set  its 
friend  to  try  whether  she  could  tempt  it  to  eat 
any  thing.  Mixing  some  cream  and  sugar,  and 
pouring  a  little  of  it  into  the  cup  of  a  bell-shaped 
flower,  the  beautiful  creature,  to  her  great  deliglit, 
at  once  began  to  sip,  and  gathering  strength  as  he 
did  so,  by  and  by  flow  ofl"  through  the  window 
once  more.  Next  day,  and  every  day  thenceforth, 
throuorli  the  summer,  the  little  thino;  came  back 
about  the  same  time,  for  another  repast,  fluttering 
against  the  window,  if  it  happened  to  be  shut ;  and 
whenever  he  had  not  got  enough,  flying  backwards 
and  forwards  close  at  hand,  in  great  restlessness  till 
a  fresh  supply  had  been  manufactured.  It  did  not 
matter  who  w%as  in  the  room,  the  sight  of  the 
flower  held  out  brought  him  in,  when  he  was  wait^ 

*  Quoted  in  Gosse's  "  Canadian  Naturalist." 


Canada  good  for  the  Poor, 


281 


ing  for  his  meal  ;  iiuleed,  his  natural  timidity 
seemed  to  have  been  entirely  laid  aside.  Late  in 
the  season,  a  day  passed  without  his  visit,  and  they 
found  that,  in  all  probability,  he  had  flown  ofi'  to 
the  south  for  the  winter.  Whether  he  came  back 
again  the  next  s})ring  has  not  been  recorded. 

Some  of  the  settlers  in  the  bush,  back  from  the 
river,  were  striking  examples  of  the  benefits  a  poor 
man  may  get  from  coming  to  such  a  country  as  Can- 
ada. I  used  often  to  go  back  on  various  errands, 
and  was  always  delighted  with  the  rough  plenty  of 
farmers  who,  not  many  years  ago,  had  been  labor- 
ers at  home,  with  only  a  few  shillings  a  week  for 
wages.  Now,  by  steady  labor  and  sobriety,  many 
amongst  them  were  proprietors  of  a  hundred  acres 
of  excellent  land,  and  sat  down  at  each  meal  to  a 
table  which  even  well-to-do  people  in  England 
are  not  in  the  habit  of  enjoying.  But  there  were 
some  cases  of  failure,  which  no  less  strongly 
brought  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  country 
before  me.  Ten  miles  away  from  us,  and  lying 
back  from  the  river,  a  person  who  had  been  a 
baker  in  London,  but  had  determined  to  turn 
farmer,  had  settled  some  years  before.  He  built  a 
log'-house,  and  cleared  a  patch,  but  it  was  slow 
work,  as  he  had  to  bring  on  his  back  all  the  flour 
and  potatoes,  or  what  his  household  needed,  the 
whole  way  from  the  river,  through  the  forest,  over 
swamps,  and  every  other  difficulty  that  lay  in  his 
road.     After  a  time  he  fell  ill  of  fever  and  ague  — 

24* 


iti] 


„,< 


282 


A  Bush  Story  of  3Iufortune. 


the  great  curse  of  new  or  low-lying   districts  in 
Canada    and    the    States.     For   eight   months   he 
could  do  no  work,  and  meanwhile  his  family  were 
driven  to  the    greatest  straits  to    keep  themselves 
alive.     At   last,   he  was   able  to   get  about  once 
more.     Every  thing  was  behind  with  him,  but  he 
was  still  unbroken  in  spirit.     But  now  came  a  new 
trial :  a  great  tree,  winch  had  been  left  standing 
near  his  house,  fell  down  across  it,  breaking  in  the 
roof,  though  foitunately  without  killing   any  one. 
The  axe  and  patience  offered  the  means  of  escap- 
ing  from  this  misfortune  also ;   and,  before  long, 
the  tree  was  removed,  and  the  shattered  dwelling 
restored.     For   awhile   all    went   on  well   enough 
after  he  had  thus  once  more  got  on  his  feet.     But 
his   troubles  were   not   yet   at   an  end.     Coming 
home  one  night  with  a  heavy  load,  on  his  weary 
ten  miles'  road  from  the  front,  in  crossing  a  swamp 
on  a  round  log,  his  foot  slipped,  and  a  sharp  stake 
ran  through  his  boot  deep  into  the  flesh,  impaling 
him,  as  it  were,  for  a  time.     How  he  got  home  I 
know  not,  but  of  course  he  left  his  load  behind 
him,  and   had   to  crawl  to   his   house  as   best  he 
could.     This  last  calamity  fiiirly  crushed  his  hopes 
of  success  ;  and,  on  recovering,  he  abandoned  his 
land,  moved  with  his  family  to  a  town  eighty  miles 
off,  and  took  service  at   his  old   trade,  in  which, 
after  a  time,  he  was  able  to  recommence  business 
on  his  own  account. 

When  the  roads  got  pretty  dry  in  the  summei" 


Statute  Labor. 


283 


time,  we  were  all  summoned  by  the  "  patlimaster  " 
of  our  neighborhood  —  a  dignitary  who  is  elected 
annually  to  superintend  the  repairs  of  the  different 
roads  —  to  do  our  statute  labor.  As  money  to  pay 
a  substitute  was  out  of  the  question,  we  had,  of 
course,  ourselves  to  shoulder  shovels,  and  turn  out 
for  the  six  days'  work  required  of  us.  My  three 
elder  brothers,  and  a  number  of  neighbors,  were  on 
the  ground  on  the  day  appointed,  but  they  were  an 
hour  or  two  later  than  they  would  have  required 
any  laborers  they  might  have  hired  to  have  been, 
and  they  forthwith  commenced  their  task.  It  was 
amusing  to  see  how  they  managed  to  get  through 
the  time,  what  with  smoking,  discussing  what  was 
to  be  done,  stopping  to  chat,  sitting  down  to  rest, 
and  all  the  manoeuvres  of  unwilling  workers.  A 
tree  had  to  be  cut  up  at  one  part  and  hauled  together 
for  burning  off;  a  ditch  dug  from  nowhere  to  no- 
where, at  some  other  point ;  a  bridge  to  be  repaired, 
at  a  third,  by  throwing  a  log  or  two  across  it,  in  the 
places  from  which  broken  ones  had  been  drawn  out ; 
a  mud  hole  filled  up,  at  a  fourth  ;  and  the  corduroy 
road,  over  a  swamp,  made  more  passable,  at  a  fifth, 
by  throwing  a  large  quantity  of  branches  on  it, 
and  covering  them  deeply  with  earth,  so  as  to  get  a 
smooth  surface.  "  I  guess  I've  done  more  for  the 
Queen,  nor  she's  done  for  me,"  said  John  Courtenay, 
as  he  sat  down  for  the  tenth  time.  "  I'll  take  it 
easy  now,  the  boss  is  up  the  road,"  the  "  boss " 
b^^ing  the  pathmaster,  who  had  gone  off  to  anothei 


fell 


284 


Tortoises, 


gang  at  some  distance.  You  may  be  sure  ouf 
engineering  was  very  poorly  clone,  but  it  was  all 
we  had  to  look  to  to  keep  the  roads  passable  at  all 
in  the  wet  weather.  The  vacant  lots,  every  here 
and  there,  were  the  greatest  hindei'ance  to  any  im- 
provements worthy  the  name,  nobody  caring  to  re- 
pair the  road  through  an  absentee's  land,  though 
all  suffered  from  its  beino;  neo;lected. 

There  were  a  number  of  tortoises  in  the  ponds, 
in  the  woods,  and  by  the  roadside,  and  they  used  to 
give  us  a  good  deal  of  amusement.  They  were  of 
all  sizes,  but  generally  not  very  large,  and  were 
really  beautiful  in  the  markings  of  their  shells, 
when  you  had  them  close  at  hand.  But  to  get 
near  enough  for  this  was  the  difficulty.  They 
used  to  come  out  of  the  water,  in  the  middle  of  the 
day,  to  sun  themselves,  or  to  sleep,  on  the  dry  logs 
which  lay  over  it,  and  the  great  point  was  to  try  to 
keep  them  from  plumping  off  in  an  instant,  rather 
than  making  to  the  land.  It  w^as  all  but  hopeless 
to  try  it,  but  we  would  not  give  it  up.  Sometimes 
we  came  upon  them,  away  from  the  water  a  little, 
and  then  we  had  it  all  our  own  way  with  them. 
They  move  very  awkwardly  on  the  ground,  and 
seem  too  stupid  to  do  even  as  much  as  they  might, 
but  they  must  not  be  handled  incautiously,  for  they 
give  terrible  snaps  with  their  horny  mouths,  which 
are  like  the  sides  of  a  smith's  vice  for  hardness  and 
strength  of  hold.  A  poor  Scotchman  who  came 
out  one  summer,  found  this  out  to  his  cost.     He 


Tortoises. 


285 


had  been  coming  down  the  road,  and  saw  a  lar^xe 
tortoise,  or  "  mud-turtle,"  as  tlie  Canadians  call 
them,  apparently  sound  asleep  at  the  edge  of  the 
creek.  Of  course,  he  thought  he  had  come  on  a 
treasure,  and  determined  to  catch  it  if  possible. 
Stealing,  therefore,  breathlessly,  up  to  the  spot,  ho 
made  a  grab  at  it  before  it  suspected  danger,  and 
in  a  minute  had  it  swinmno;  over  his  shoulder  by  its 
foreleg.  The  leg  was  short,  and  the  round  sliield 
that  covered  the  creature  was  therefore  close  up  to 
his  head.  He  thought  he  would  take  it  home,  and 
show  the  good  folks  this  wonder  of  the  woods  ; 
perhaps  he  thought  of  taming  it,  or  of  making  combs 
for  his  wife  out  of  its  back  shell.  At  any  rate,  on 
he  jogged  quite  proud  of  his  acquisition.  He  would 
soon  get  over  the  five  miles  more  he  had  to  walk, 
and  then  what  excitement  there  would  be  at  the 
sight  of  such  a  creature.  But,  by  this  time,  the 
turtle  had  recovered  presence  of  mind  enough  to 
look  round  him,  and  accordingly  poked  his  head 
out,  and  in  doing  so  came  invitingly  close  to  his 
captor's  ear,  on  which  his  two  jaws  closed  in  a 
moment.  If  ever  a  prisoner  had  his  revenge  he 
had  it.  The  Scotchman  might  have  pulled  his  ear 
off,  in  trying  to  get  free,  but  notliing  short  of  that 
seemed  of  any  use.  He  could  not  let  go  the  leg, 
for  that  would  leave  the  whole  weight  of  the  turtle 
hanging  from  his  ear,  and  he  could  not  keep  his 
arms  up  without  getting  cramps  in  them.  '  But  he 
had  to  try.     In  misery,  with  his  wretched  ear  bent 


r*  :3 


!     f 


^1, 


h- 


"5 


•    '  as 

i 

■•fe 

1      ^ 

III* 

1  ^H^~iir      ^WK 

-'•f^^i^^^^' 


i  fi, . 


iM 


i 


1^ 


286 


Tortoises, 


down  close  to  the  shell,  and  his  liands  inimovahly 
raised  to  the  same  shoulder  tlie  whole  way,  he  had 
to  plod  on,  the  whole  distance,  to  his  house,  wherv 
his  appearance  created  no  small  alarm  as  he  came 
near.  Nothinji  could  even  then  be  done  to  loosen 
the  creature's  hold  ;  it  was  like  a  vice,  —  until  at 
last  they  maniitred  to  relieve  him,  by  getting  the 
head  far  enough  out  to  cut  it  otf",  after  which  the 
jaws  were  at  last  parted,  and  the  sufferer  allowed 
to  tell  his  luckless  adventure. 

One  of  our  neio-hbors  used  to  shock  our  notions  of 
propriety  by  eating  the  "  turtles"  he  caught. 
"  There  are  fish,  there  are  flesh,  and  there  are 
fowl  on  a  turtle,"  he  used  to  say  in  his  bad  English, 
in  describing  their  charms,  but  the  worthy  jNIanks- 
man  got  no  one  to  join  him  in  his  appreciation  of 
them.  The  Indians  have  a  kind  of  relioious  ven- 
eration  for  them,  and  would  not,  on  any  account, 
do  them  any  harm.  I  knew  one  who  acted  as  in- 
terpreter at  a  missionary  station,  who  used  to  say 
that  the  hardest  trial  he  had  had,  after  he  be- 
came a  Christian,  was  one  day  in  summer,  when, 
having  pounced  upon  a  tortoise,  he  took  it  on  his 
back  to  carry  it  home,  and  was  overtaken  by  a 
dreadful  storm  of  thunder  and  lightnincr.  He  said 
that  he  could  hardly  get  over  the  thought,  that  it 
was  because  he  had  offended  the  sacred  creature, 
and  this  notion  fairly  made  him  perspire  with  terror  ; 
but  he  had  the  courage  to  resist  his  alarm,  and 
after  the  sky  had  cleared,  he  lifted  it  once  more  on 


TJie  Hay  Season. 


287 


his  shoulder,  and    went    liome   resolved   never  to 
yield  to  fear  of  such  a  kind  a<:!;ain. 

The  hay  in  the  neighborhood  was  mown  about 
the  end  of  June,  and  as  our  own  su})|)ly  was,  as 
yet,  far  short  of  our  requirements,  we  had  to  buy  a 
quantity.  To  get  it  cheaper,  we  undertook  to  send 
our  wajTon  to  the  field  for  it,  and  brino;  it  home 
ourselves.  Henry  and  I  were  detailed  for  this 
service,  and  started  one  morning  with  the  oxen  and 
the  wagon,  a  frame  of  light  j)oles  having  been  laid 
on  the  ordinary  box  to  enable  us  to  pile  up  a  suffi- 
cient load.  I  had  to  get  inside,  while  Henry  forked 
up  the  hay  from  the  cocks  on  the  ground,  my  part 
being  to  spread  it  about  evenly.  We  got  on  famous- 
ly till  the  load  was  well  up  in  the  frame,  the  oxen 
moving  on  from  one  cock  to  another,  through  the 
stumps,  at  Henry's  commands,  but  without  any 
special  guidance.  All  at  once,  while  they  were 
going  at  the  rate  of  about  two  miles  an  hour,  the 
wheels  on  one  side  e;raduallv  rose,  and  before  I 
could  help  myself,  over  went  the  whole  frame,  hay 
and  all,  on  the  top  of  Henry,  who  was  walking  at 
the  side.  The  oxen  had  pulled  the  load  over  a 
hillock  at  the  foot  of  a  stump.  I  was  sent  clear  of 
the  avalanche,  but  Henry  was  thrown  on  his  back, 
luckily  with  his  head  and  shoulders  free,  but  the 
rest  of  his  body  embedded  in  the  mass.  Neither  of 
us  was  hurt,  however,  and  we  laughed  heartily 
enough,  after  we  had  recovered  our  self-possession, 
the  first   act   being   to  stop  the    oxen,  who  were 


m'.\ 


■'ir  'i 


il 


a^i 


288 


Henri/  and  I  nearly  Droivned, 


it'    S: 


marcliiiig  off  with  tlie  four  wheels,  as  solemnly  as 
ever,  and  liad  no  idea  of  eoniino;  to  a  halt  without 
orders.  OF  course  we  had  to  (dear  the  frame,  o-et 
it  set  up  again  on  the  wafjjon,  and  fork  up  all  the 
liay  once  more,  but  we  took  care  of  the  oxen  the 
second  time,  and  met  no  more  accidents. 

Henry  and  I  were  very  nearly  drowned,  shortly 
after  this,  in  that  great  lumbering  canoe  of  ours,  by 
a  very  ridiculou(fe  act  on  our  own  parts,  and  an 
unforeseen  roughening  of  the  water.  Some  bricks 
were  needed  to  rebuild  the  chinmey,  and  they 
could  not  be  had  nearer  than  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river.  Henry  and  I,  therefore,  set  off  in  the 
forenoon  to  get  them,  and  crossed  easily  enough. 
We  went  straight  over,  intending  to  paddle  down 
the  shore  till  we  reached  the  place  where  the 
bricks  were  to  be  had,  about  two  miles  below. 
Having  nothing  to  hurry  us,  and  the  day  being 
uncommonly  bright  and  beautiful,  we  made  no 
attempt  to  be  quick,  but  drew  tlie  canoe  to  the 
land,  and  sallied  up  the  bank  to  get  some  ears  of 
Indian  corn  which  were  growing  close  by,  and 
offered  great  attractions  to  our  hungry  stomachs. 
At  last,  after  loitering  by  the  w^ay  for  an  hour  or 
two,  we  reached  our  destination,  bought  the  bricks, 
and  paddled  our  canoe  some  distance  up  a  stream 
to  get  near  them,  that  we  might  the  more  easily  get 
them  on  board ;  but  ignorance  is  a  bad  teacher, 
even  in  so  simple  a  matter  as  loading  a  canoe  with 
bricks.     We   had   no   thought   but  how  to  pack 


Henry  and  I  nearly  Drowned. 


289 


them  all   in  at  once,  so  tliat  we  shouM   not  liavp  to 
come  over  a<i;ain,  and  kept  stowing  tlieni  in  all  the 
way  alono;  the  canoe,  except  at  each   end,   where 
we  reserved    a  small   space  for  onrselves.      When 
the  whole  had  been  shij)ped,  we  took  onr  ])laces  — 
Henry  at  the  bows,  on  his  knees  ;  I  at  the  stern, 
on  a  seat  made  of  a  bit  of  the  lid  of  a  Hour-barrel 
—  each  of  us  with  his  paddle.     Jt  was  dehghtful  to 
steer  down  the  glassy  creek,  and  when  we  turned 
into  the  river,  and  skirted  up  close  to  the  banks,  it 
seemed  as  if  we  were  to  get  back  as  easily  as  we 
came,  though  Henry  just  then  bade  me  look  over 
the  side,  telling  me  that  the  canoe  was  only  the 
length  of  a  forefinger  out  of  the  water,  and,  sure 
enough,  I  found  it  was  so  ;  but  we  never  thought 
it  boded  any  danger.     In  smooth  water  one  is  not 
apt  to  think  of  the  rough  that  may  follow.     We 
got  along  charmingly  for  a  time,  under  the  lee  of 
the  land,  which  made  a  bend  out,  some  distance 
above  our  house,  on  the  American  side ;  we  deter- 
mined to  allow  a  good  deal  for  the  current,  and  go 
to  this  point,  before  we  turned  to  cross.     Unfortu- 
nately for  us,  in  our  ignorance  of  the  proper  man- 
agement   of  a    canoe    under    difficulties,    a    great 
steamer,   passing    on    to    Chicago,    swept   up   the 
stream,  close  to  us,  just  as  we  were  about  to  strike 
out  for  home,  and  the '  swell  it  raised  made  the 
water  run  along  the  edge  of  the  canoe,  as  if  it  were 
looking  over  and  wanted  to  get  in.     It  lurched  and 
twisted,  got  its  head  wrong,  and  all  but  filled,  even 

25 


n 
1 1  >'i 


i 


m 


.M"^^'V'i 


290 


Henry  and  I  nearly  Droicned. 


%  i 


'¥',   s 


with  tills  slight  agitation.     We  had  ^jot  over  tin's 
trouble  when  we  found,  to  our  alarm,  on  m'ttiiKr 
out  from  the  shelter  of  the  land,  that  the  wind  was 
getting  up,  freshly  enough  to  make  the  mid-stream 
quite  rough.     If  we  had  known  the  extent  of  our 
dano-er  we  would  have  turned  back  and  unloaded 
some  of  our  cargo,  but  no  such  notion  occurred  to 
us.     We  therefore  determined  to  make  the  best  of 
our  way  across ;  but  it  was  easier  determined  than 
done.     The  wind  and   the  short  chopping  waves 
together  very  soon  took    the  management  of  our 
frail    bark   out   of  our  hands,  twisting   the  canoe 
round  and  round,  in  spite  of  all  our  efforts.     Every 
little  while  we  would  get  into  the  trough  of  the 
stream,  and  the  water  would  run  along  from  the 
bow  to  the  stern,  shining  over  the  few  inches  on 
which  depended   our   hope  and    life ;    then,  some 
would  find  its  way  in.     The  bricks  got  quite  wet. 
The  empty  space  in  which  I  sat  was  filled  to  my 
ankles  with  water,  and  Henry  shouted  that  it  was 
the  same  at  his  end.     "  Paddle  hard,  George,  for 
your  life  —  paddle,  paddle,  and  we  may  get  over ;  " 
and  paddle  both  of  us  did,  at  the  very  top  of  our 
strength.     We  must  have  been  making  way  swiftly, 
but  owing  to  the  noise  of  the  wind,  and  the  confu- 
sion of  mind  we  were  in,  for  neither  of  us  could 
swim  a  stroke,  we  could  hot  find  out  whether  we 
made  any  progress,  and,  to  add  to  our  bewilder- 
ment, round  went  the  head  of  the  canoe  the  wrong 
way,  once  and  again,  in  spite   of  us.     "Shall  I 


over  this 


II  iii'ttniii 
wind  was 
id-stream 
lit  of  our 
unloaded 
c'urred  to 
le  best  of 
liied  than 
iiiX  waves 
it  of  our 
the  canoe 
;.     Every 
ill  of  the 
from  the 
inches  on 
len,  some 
|uite  wet. 
ed  to  my 
at  it  was 
orge,  for 
et  over ; " 
op  of  our 
y  swiftly, 
le  confu- 
us  could 
lether  we 
bewilder- 
he  wrong 
"  ShaU  I 


Henry  falls  111. 


291 


throw  out  the  bricks,  Henry?"  I  cried.  "Yes, 
if  you  can  •  "  but  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  do  it. 
I  did,  indeed,  niana<xe  to  toss  two  or  three  over,  but 
I  was  helmsman,  and  my  giving  up  my  ])addle  left 
us  helplessly  whirling  round.  Henry  had  his  back 
to  the  bricks,  and  of  course  could  do  iiothin<r. 
He,  tlR'i'efore,  kept  paddling  as  liard  as  ever. 
Seizing  my  ])a(l(lle,  I  joined  my  etibrts  to  his,  ami, 
after  a  time,  found,  to  my  great  joy,  that  the  water 
was  chantj-int:;  color  —  a  sure  sijrn  that  we  were 
much  nearer  land  than  we  had  been  a  little  while 
before.  A  few  minutes  more,  and  wc  saw  the  bot- 
tom, and  knew  we  were  safe ;  but  not  so  the 
bricks.  The  canoe  sank  b(!fore  reaching  the  bank, 
immersino;  us  to  the  middle,  and  thonoli  we  drairircd 
it  to  the  land,  the  bricks  were  in  so  bad  a  state, 
that,  fi'om  our  neglecting  to  take  special  ])ains  with 
them,  a  great  many  mouldered  into  red  earth. 

This  was  my  only  dangerous  adventure  with  our 
large  coffin  of  a  canoe,  but  many  a  hard  pull  I 
have  had  with  it.  Poor  Henrv  s^ve  me  one  touMi 
day's  work,  much  against  his  will.  He  had  been 
working  in  the  field,  and,  being  very  warm,  had 
drunk  a  large  quantity  of  water,  which  brought  on 
very  painful  cramps  of  the  stomach.  There  were 
none  but  our  two  selves  and  the  girls  at  home,  and 
the  nearest  place  to  procure  medical  advice  was  at 
the  village  where  I  had  got  the  bricks,  across  the 
river.  There  was  no  time  to  be  lost ;  Henry  was 
alarmingly  ill,  so  away  I  went  with  the  canoe,  pad- 


•  i^i 


'»., 


i*i 


X 


292 


Ameidcan  Titles. 


\\ 


•A 


|i 


<lling  as  liard  as  I  could,  and  got  to  my  destination 
])retty  quickly.  But  to  get  tlie  "  doctor  "  was  tlie 
difficulty.  I  found  "  Major  "  Thom})son,  whom  I 
knew  by  sight,  standing  in  his  shirt-sleeves  at  the 
door  of  the  coffee-house  he  kept,  and  I  asked  him 
if  lie  could  tell  me  where  I  should  find  the  medical 
"  Good    morning,  doctor,"  said  the  "  Ma- 


man. 


If 


jor,"  in  answer  —  I  was  no  more  a  doctor  than  he 
a  major,  but  the  Americans  are  fond  of  assunung 
and  bestowing  titles — "  I  don't  know,  p'raps  he's 
to  home — jist  ask  Gin'ral  Northroj),  yonder,  if 
he's  seen  him  come  out  this  mornino'  ?  "  The  o;en- 
tleman  to  whom  I  Avas  thus  directed  proved  to  be 
the  leader  of  the  choir  in  the  village  chapel,  and 
followed  some  trade,  but  what,  I  don't  know.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  great  broad  straw  hat,  bkie  shirt, 
linen  trowsers,  and  boots,  and  was  very  busy  load- 
ing a  cart  with  furniture  at  a  door  up  the  street. 
He  was  very  courteous  when  I  got  up  to  him. 
"  I  guess,"  said  he,  "you'll  be  all  right ;  I  calculate 
he's  not  about  yet ;  just  go  down  the  street,  and 
turn  round  that  there  fence  corner,  and  you,'ll  easy 
find  his  place."  Thither  I  went,  and  was  fortu- 
nate enough  to  find  the  old  man,  who,  in  spite  of  a 
dissipated  and  miserable  look,  seemed  to  know  his 
profession.  I  could  only  suppose  that  he  must  have 
been  driven  to  such  a  place  from  pure  necessity. 
He  gave  me  some  stuff  from  a  dispensarj'-,  as 
strange  and  uncouth  as  that  of  the  apothecary  in 
"  Romeo  and  Juliet :  "  — 


'1 1 


Backwood  Doctors. 


293 


"  About  his  shelves 
A  bejifrnrly  account  of  empty  boxes, 
Green  earthen  ])()ts,  bhulders  and  musty  seeds, 
Keninants  of  i)a(kthreiid     .     .     . 
Were  thinly  scattered." 

Into  this  saiK'tuin  I  was  taken  by  tlie  back-door, 
and  found  it,  in  reality,  more  a  hnnber-room  tliau 
a  shop,  for  tlie  window  made  no  sort  of  disj>lay, 
and,  everywhere,  dirt  reigned  in  undisturbed  pos- 
session. Having  got  the  medicine,  I  quickly 
regained  the  canoe,  and  paddled  liome  as  raj)idly 
as  possible.  But,  instead  of  getting  better,  poor 
Henry  seemed  rather  to  get  worse,  so  tliat  I  liad 
to  set  oif  a  second  time,  with  a  long  account  of  the 
symptoms,  on  paper,  to  hand  to  the  doctor.  This 
time,  tliank  God,  he  hit  on  the  right  prescription, 
and  I  had  the  unspeakable  pleasure  of  seeing  the 
poor  sufferer  greatly  relieved  by  an  infusicn  we  got 
inf».de  for  him  when  I  returned.  I  verily  believe 
tliat  if  he  had  had  no  one  to  go  over  the  river  for 
him  he  must  have  died. 

"'  The  want  of  sufficient  medical  help,  and  too 

often  the  inferior  quality  of  what  you  can  get,  is 

one  of  the  m'eatest  evils  of  living;  in  the  backwoods. 

Henry  all  but  died  a  year  or  two  after  this,  fi-om 

the  treatment  he  had  to  undero;o  at  the  hands  of  a 

self-stvled  doctor,  who  came  to  the  neio;hborhood 

for  a  time,  and  left  it  when  his  incompetency  was 

found  out.     The  illness  was  a  very  serious  one  — 

brain    fever  —  and  the  treatment  resorted  to  was 

25  * 


■\\\ 


■n 


s  m 


■I  I? 
?!' 

it-  f ' 

ft 

#  r 


1'; 


m  fi^u  ^ji.i  iirngaa 


mmmmmmm 


sm 


f  i  ;• 

I:] 

ill 


■  i 


'  ( ) 


'.I 


V 


u 


'  i 


i 

(     t 


I 


! 


II 


f^ 


»-  'I 


t'  ijli 


Ifw 


i 


294 


BacJcwood  Doctors. 


bleeding  and  depletion,  till  life  nearly  ebbed  away 
from  slieer  exhaustion.  The  poor  fellow  was  made 
to  take  medicine  enough  almost  to  kill  a  stronf^ 
man  ;  and  was  so  evidently  sinking,  that  the  other 
imnates  of  the  house  determined  to  send  over  for 
old  Dr.  Chamberlain,  who  had  before  saved  him, 
when  I  went  to  him.  "  Killed  with  too  much 
medicine,"  was  all  he  raid,  when  he  had  seen  the 
wasted  form  of  the  patient,  and  heard  the  stoiy ; 
*'  if  he  should  get  tliroiigli  it,  it  will  be  in  spite  of 
what  has  been  done,  not  by  its  means."  He  did 
get  through,  but  it  was  a  long,  weary  struggle.  I 
have  known  a  person  come  twenty  miles  in  search 
of  a  medical  man  for  his  wife,  and  when  he  reached 
his  house,  be  bitterly  disappointed  to  find  the  doc- 
tor oft'  ten  miles  in  an  opposite  direction.  Mr. 
Spring,  up  the  river,  had  good  cause  to  remember 
his  being  at  the  mercy  of  an  uneducated  practi- 
tioner. He  was  going  in  the  dark,  one  winter 
night,  to  a  friend's  house,  about  two  miles  off', 
when  suddenly  slipping  on  a  piece  of  ice,  he  fell 
violently  on  his  knee.  Trying  to  rise,  he  found  he 
had  injured  the  cap,  so  that  he  could  not  walk. 
He  had,  therefore,  to  crawl  back  home  again,  in  the 
keen  cold  of  a  Canadian  night,  along  the  road, 
over  the  field,  and  down  the  steep  bank,  all  cov- 
ered thickly  witli  snow.  The  "  doctor,"  who  lived 
five  miles  off",  was,  of  course,  sent  for  next  morning 
as  early  as  possible.  But  it  would,  perhaps,  have 
been  better  if  he  had  never  been  sent  for  at  all,  for 


Backwood  Doctors. 


295 


he  bandaged  the  leg  so  tiglitly  as  ahnost  to  bring 
on  mortification  ;  and  tliis  he  did,  too,  without 
attempting  to  bring  the  broken  parts  together. 
The  result  was  a  hopelessly  stiff  leg,  after  the  suf- 
ferer had  endured  many  weeks  of  pain. 

We  had  occasional  visits  of  gentlemen,  who  join- 
ed the  medical  profession  with  other  pursuits. 
They  would  cure  a  fever,  or  act  as  dentists,  and 
announced  their  arrival  by  calls  from  house  to  house. 
A  friend  of  mine,  who  had  unfortunately  lost  a 
front  tooth,  thought  he  had  better  take  advantage 
of  such  an  opportunity,  especially  as  he  was  going 
in  a  short  time  up  Lake  Huron  to  a  public  dinner. 
"  But,"  said  he,  when  relating  the  circumstance, 
"  the  fellow  was  a  humbug ;  he  put  in  a  hickory 
peg  to  hold  the  new  tooth,  and  when  I  was  in 
the  middle  of  my  dinner  it  turned  straight  out, 
and  stuck  before  me,  hke  a  tusk,  till  I  got  it  tugged 


out. 


»> 


There  was  a  medical  man  of  a  very  different 
stamp  who  came  among  us  some  years  after  this, 
when  I  hau  left  the  river,  and  of  whom  I  have 
heard  some  curious  stories.  Dr.  White  —  let  that 
be  his  name  —  had  been  in  large  practice  in  Ireland, 
but  had  unfortunately  fallen  into  dissipated  habits, 
which  compelled  him  to  emigrate.  To  raise  the 
means  of  reaching  Canada,  his  wife  had  sold  an 
annuity  she  enjoyed  on  her  own  life,  after  his  engag- 
ing that  he  would  give  up  his  intemperate  habits. 
He  first  settled  in  one  of  the  towns,  but  afterwards 


296 


Backwood  Doctors. 


I   t 


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\ 

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1 

1  ^l 

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■      1 

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\      I'H 

came  to  our  part,  and  bon«:5lit  a  farm,  iiitonding  to 
help  his  income  by  working  it.  His  old  habit, 
however,  to  the  regret  of  all,  broke  out  again,  and 
destroyed  his  prospects,  in  spite  of  his  being  looked 
up  to,  throughout  the  district,  as  the  best  "•  doctor  " 
in  it.  People  often  came  from  a  distance  to  consult 
him,  and  were  doomed  to  find  him  lielj)less ;  and 
this,  of  course,  speedily  ruined  his  practice.  In- 
stances of  his  skill,  however,  still  linger  in  the  minds 
of  many  in  the  settlement,  accompanied  with  great 
regret,  that  a  man  at  once  so  clever  and  comely 
should  liave  been  so  great  an  enemy  to  himself. 
He  had  a  rough  humor  sometimes,  when  he  was  a 
little  under  the  mfluence  of  drink,  which  was  very 
diveitinii;.  Hvnry  was  one  nio;ht  at  his  house  in 
the  winter,  when  a  rap  came  to  the  door.  The 
others  being  busy,  Henry  rose  to  o])en  it,  and  found 
two  men,  who  had  come  through  the  frightful  cold 
to  get  the  doctor's  assistance.  The  one,  it  appeared, 
could  not  speak,  from  some  abscess  or  boil  in  his 
throat,  which  he  had  come  to  get  lanced  or  other- 
wise treated.  On  being  taken  into  the  hall,  which 
had  a  stove  in  it,  and  was  comfortable  enough,  the 
doctor  made  his  apj)earance,  and  walked  uj)  to  the 
sufferer  with  a  candle  in  his  hand.  "  What's  the 
matter  with  you  ?  "  The  patient  sim])ly  opened 
his  mouth  wide,  and  pointed  into  it  with  his  fingers. 
*'  Let  me  see,"  said  White.  ''  Open  your  mouth, 
sir "  —  taking  the  candle  out  of  the  candlestick, 
and  holding  it  close  to  the  poor  fellow's  face.     The 


Backwood  Doctors. 


297 


mouth  was,  of  course,  instantly  opened  as  widely 
as  possible,  and  the  blazing  candle  was  as  instantly 
sent  dash  into  it,  as  far  as  it  would  o-o,  raisino;  a 
yell  from  the  })atient  that  might  have  been  heard 
over  the  next  farm,  which  was  followed  by  a  rush 
outside  the  door  to  clear  his  mouth,  as  he  seemed 
half  choked.  "  Bring  a  light  here,"  cried  White, 
coming  to  the  door  quite  coolly.  "  How  do  you 
feel,  sir  ?  "  The  blow  with  the  soft  candle,  the 
fright,  and  the  yell,  all  together,  had  wrought  a 
miracle  on  the  poor  fellow.  His  trouble  was  clean 
gone.  "  I'm  better,  sir  —  what's  to  pay  ?  "  "  Noth- 
ing at  all,"  replied  White;  "good  night  to  you," 
and  the  scene  was  over.  Henry  laughed,  as  he 
well  might,  at  such  an  incident ;  and  after  awhile 
ventured  to  ask  the  doctor  if  there  were  no  instru- 
ments that  would  have  done  ?  "  Certainly  there 
are,  but  do  you  think  I'd  dirty  my  instruments  on 
a  fellow  like  that?  the  candle  would  do  well 
enouo-h."  Poor  White  died  some  time  after,  throuo;h 
intemperance.  His  widow  and  family  were  enabled 
to  ^t  back  to  Ireland  by  the  sale  of  all  the  effects 
he  had ;  and  on  their  arrival,  his  friends  took  charge 
of  the  children,  and  the  widow  went  out  as  a  gover- 
ness to  India. 


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298 


Hiding. 


CHAPTER    XVI  il. 


American  inon  and  women.  —  Fireflies.  —  Profusion  of  insect  life. — 
Grasslioi)i)ers.  —  Frederick  and  David  leave  Canada.  —  Soap- 
making.  —  Home-made  candles.  —  Kecipe  for  washing  quickly. 
—  Writing  letters.  —  The  parson  for  driver. 

AS  the  delicious  nights  of  summer  drew  on  again, 
it  was  a  pleasure  of  which  we  never  wearied 
to  ride  over  to  some  neighbor's  to  spend  an  hour  or 
two.  The  visit  itself  was  always  delio-htful,  for  we 
could  not  have  wished  better  society,  but  the  un- 
speakable loveliness  of  the  road  was  no  less  so. 
We  very  soon  got  a  couple  of  horses,  every  one  else 
haA'ing  them,  for  no  one  in  Canada  ever  thinks  of 
walHng  if  he  can  help  it.  I  have  often  wondered 
at  tins,  for  the  same  persons  who  would  not  stir  a 
step,  if  possible,  in  Canada,  without  a  horse,  or  sfJne 
conv'syance,  would  have  been  fond  of  walking  if 
they  had  remained  in  Britain.  It  cannot  be  because 
they  have  horses  in  the  one  country  and  had  none 
in  tlie  other,  for,  in  towns,  there  is  no  such  liking 
for  walking,  though  there  are  few  who  either  own 
or  '■an  borrow  a  horse  or  vehicle,  and  those  in  the 
country  who  have  neither  wmII  send  in  all  directions 
to  ask  the  loan  of  a  neighbor's  horse  rather  than 


American  Men  and  Women. 


299 


walk  a  few  miles.  Probably  the  great  heat  of  sum- 
mer renders  the  exertion  of  walkinji;  irksome  to  most 
people ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  in  winter,  the 
cold  and  the  snow  are  such  hinderances  as  to  throw 
them  out  of  the  habit  of  it.  There  seems  no  doubt 
besides,  that  the  effects  of  the  climate  on  Europeans 
is  to  enfeeble  them  gradually,  though  tliey  may  not 
exhibit  any  symptoms  of  rapid  decay,  or  suffer  from 
any  acute  disease.  The  red  cheeks  of  the  inliabit- 
ants  of  Britain  are  very  soon  lost  in  Canada,  and 
you  very  seldom  see  the  stout,  hearty  people  so 
common  in  England. 

But  I  am  forgetting  my  rides  on  the  old  mare, 
Kate,  in  the  summer  evenings.  I  was  walking  her 
slowly  up  the  road  one  night,  when  I  was  struck  by 
innumerable  flashes  of  light  among  the  trees  in  the 
forest  at  my  side.  I  tried  every  theory  I  could 
think  of  to  account  for  it,  some  of  them  ridiculous 
enough,  but  it  was  not  till  I  came  home  tliat  I  hit 
on  the  right  one,  which  I  might  have  been  sure  of 
at  first.  The  phenomenon  in  question  was  nothing 
but  an  immense  number  of  fireflies  sporting  among 
the  branches,  and  their  motion  made  them  seem  as 
if  every  leaf  were  a  Leyden  jar  giving  off  a  succes- 
sion of  electric  sparks.  I  had  often  seen  them  be- 
fore, but  never  in  such  amazing  swarms.  They 
must  have  been  holding  some  grand  carnival,  some 
firefly's  ball,  with  endless  dancing  and  wonderful 
illumination.  The  insects  that  make  this  brilliant 
display  are  a  kind  of  beetle,  about  three-quarters  of 


■  pp 


i;'!l 


fl    Pi 


m 


w    v;s  III 


['If' ;  i '!'    <- 


300 


Fireflies. 


an  incli  in  leno;tli.  Tlicy  opive  out  their  liij-lit  from 
difFerent  ])arts  of  tlioir  bodies,  ])iit  cliiefly  from  the 
lower  luilf,  and  are  often  caiiglit  and  kept  for  a 
time  in  bottles  as  a  curiosity.  In  other  countries 
they  are  said  to  have  been  put  to  various  uses,  but 
I  never  heard  of  their  being  so  employed  in  Canada. 
TheCaribs  of  St.  Domingo,  a  race  of  Indians  whose 
memory  is  now  passing  away,  were  formerly 
accustomed  to  use  them  as  living  lamps  in  their 
evening  household  occupations,  just  as  we  use  can- 
dles. In  travelling  at  night  the}''  fastened  them  to 
their  feet,  and  in  fishing  or  hunting  in  the  dark 
they  made  them  serve  as  lights  to  guide  them. 
Moreover,  as  the  fireflies  destroy  ants,  they  gave 
them  the  freest  entry  to  their  wigwams  to  help  to 
rid  them  of  these  pests.  Southey,  in  his  poem  of 
*•  Madoc,"  tells  us,  that  it  w'as  by  the  light  of  this 
insect  Coatel  rescued  the  British  hero  from  the 
hands  of  the  Mexican  priests  : 


!HN   i 


"  She  beckoned  and  descended,  and  drew  out 
From  underneath  her  vest  a  catrc,  or  net 
It  rather  might  be  called,  so  fine  the  twigs 
That  knit  it  —  where,  confined,  two  fireflies  gave 
Their  lustre.     By  that  liglit  did  Madoc  first 
Behold  the  features  of  his  lovely  guide." 

I  am  afraid  he  would  have  remained  ioniorant  of 
her  loveliness,  if  the  discovery  had  depended  on  the 
lioht  of  Canadian  fireflies,  which  are  very  beautifid, 
indeed,  in  their  momentary  brightness,  but  are  far 


Profusion  of  Insect  Life. 


301 


ni 


too  dim  for  any  thing  more.  I  have  often  been 
reminded,  as  I  have  seen  one,  here  and  there,  kind- 
ling liis  httle  spark  for  an  instant,  and  saihng  in 
ligl)t,  for  a  brief  ghmpse,  across  the  night,  of  the 
fine  figure  in  which  Coleridge  compares  the  illumi- 
nation afforded  by  philosophy,  in  the  ages  before 
Christ,  to  the  radiance  with  which  "the  lanthorn- 
fly  of  the  tro|)ics "  lights  up,  for  a  moment,  the 
natural  darkness.      It  is  equally  beautiful  and  apt. 

It  is  wonderful  to  see  wdiat  a  profusi«)n  of  insect 
hfe  sometimes  shows  itself  in  the  summer-time  in 
Canada.  I  was  once  sailino;  down  the  Niagara 
River  to  Chippewa,  which  is  the  last  port  above 
the  Falls,  in  the  month  of  September,  when,  all  at 
once,  the  steamer  entered  a  dense  snowy  cloud  of 
white  gnats,  so  blinding,  from  the  countless  num- 
bers, that  all  on  deck  had  either  to  get  below,  or 
turn  their  backs,  or  stand  behind  some  protection. 
You  could  see  the  land  throuo;h  them  only  as  you 
would  have  seen  it  through  a  snow-storm,  and  this 
continued  till  wo  reached  our  destination — a  dis- 
tance of  several  miles.  How  many  millions  of  mil- 
lions of  these  frail  creatures  must  there  have  been  ? 
There  is  another  fly  that  I  have  also  seen  in  vast 
numbers  —  the  May-fly,  which,  however,  makes  its 
appearance  not  in  May  generally,  but  in  June. 
But  it  is  so  disagreeable-looking,  that  my  only 
desire  on  beholdino;  it  has  been  to  get  out  of  its 
way.  Butterflies  are  sometimes  met  with  in  simi- 
lar clouds.     I  have  seen  large  numbers  of  them  in 

26 


1,1  J"]  • ' 


j-ftr'-j-r   'iH-,;  1'  M  'r 


O'^i 


J 


302 


Profusion  of  Insect  Life. 


the  air,  or  resting  on  the  earth  ;  but  Sir  James 
Emerson  Tennent  tells  us,  that  in  Ceylon,  they 
sometimes  fly  past  in  flocks  apparently  miles  in 
breadth,  and  in  an  unbroken  stream,  for  hours  and 
even  days  together.*  What  a  vast  amount  of  life 
there  must  be  over  the  "world,  at  any  one  time, 
when  such  an  amazing  fulness  of  it  is  met  at  even 
a  single  point !  Canada  has,  indeed,  too  much 
cause  to  feel  this,  as  regards  the  insect  tribes,  for, 
of  late  years,  it  has  been  visited  by  such  a  suc- 
cession of  pests  as  often  to  injure  its  harvests  to  a 
great  extent.  The  "  army-worm,"  as  it  is  called, 
the  weevil,  the  wireworm,  the  midge,  and  the 
locust,  or,  as  the  Canadians  call  it,  the  grasshopper, 
have  each  invaded  districts,  whicli,  on  their  appear- 
ance, were  rich  with  the  promise  of  abundant  crops, 
but  were  left  waste  and  ruined  when  they  had 
passed  over  it.  The  grasshopper  is  the  most  easily 
noticed  of  these  plagues,  as  its  size  and  its  curious 
noise  in  flying,  and  the  way  it  strikes  against  your 
clothes,  and  instantly  fastens  on  them,  are  sure  to 
draw  attention.  They  seem  to  be  a  new  arrival  in 
Canada,  having  apparently  travelled  thither  gradu- 
ally from  the  vast  prairies  of  the  Far  West.  At 
the  Red  River  they  are  met  with  in  legions  that 
enable  one  to  realize  what  a  curse  the  locusts  must 
have  been  to  the  Egyptians  of  old.  As  soon  as  the 
de'V  is  off  the  grass  in  the  mornings  they  take  short 


*  Sir  J.  E.  Tennent'3  "  Ceylon,"  i.  247. 


G 


rass/ioj^jH'rs 


303 


flights,  as  if  to  pro})jire  for  the  day's  work,  and 
ahout  nine  o'clock,  rise  in  cloud  after  cloud  and  fly 
off.     Ahout  noon  the  nunihers  seem  greatest.     The 
light    is    then    palpably    obscured  —  there    is    an 
luiearthly  ashen   light  over  every  thing — the  air 
is    filled    as  if  with    flakes  of  snow,  sometimes  to 
nearly  a  thousand  feet  in  height,  and  changes  from 
blue  to  silver-gray,  or  to  ash  or  lead  color,  as  the 
clouds  grow  deeper  or  diminish,  a  quivering  motion 
filling  it,  as  the  light  strikes  on  the  myriads  of  mov- 
ing wings.     A  sound,  indescribable,  biit  overpower- 
ing, from  the  thought  of  its  source,  comes  down 
from  the  vast  hosts,  filling  the  mind  with  a  sense 
of  awe  and  amazement.     Such  flights  have  hitherto 
been  seen  and  heard  only  outside  the  settled  parts 
of  Canada,  but,  in  every  part  of  it  there  are  nuilti- 
tudes.     I  have  seen  them  in  countless  thousands  in 
the  fields  and  on  the  roads,  and  have  often  caught 
them    to   look  at    the  wonderful   beauty  of  their 
limbs,  which  are  finished  far  more  elaborately  than 
the  finest  ornament,  and  are  suited  to  the  habits 
and  wants  of  the  creature  in  the  most  admirable 
manner. 

The  summer  of  the  second  year  saw  a  diminution 
of  our  family  circle,  by  the  departure  of  Frederick 
and  David  to  the  United  States,  to  push  their  for- 
tunes there.  They  did  not  like  farming,  and  were 
attracted  by  the  population  and  wealth  of  the 
States,  as  compared  with  Canada.  It  was  a  sad 
time  with  us  who  remained,  when  they  left  us.     In 


i        Ul 


fh 


n 


t  \ 


•I, 


i  f ' 


\l 


; 


ii 


S04        Frederick  and  David  leave  Canada, 

those  days  a  groat  many  young  men  left  tlic  prov- 
ince, from  the  ditHculty  of  finding  suitable  employ- 
ment in  it.  Where  nearly  all  were  farmers,  and 
money  was  very  scarce,  and  the  towns  mere  vil- 
lages, there  was,  of  course,  very  little  to  do,  and  it 
was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  vouni?  men  did  not 
relish  the  thouixht  of  spendinu'  their  lives  as  diiv- 
laborers  on  a  })iece  of  ground,  with  no  better 
reminieration  for  hard  work  than  the  food  they  ate 
and  the  rough  clothing  they  wore.  Any  thing 
more  was  not,  in  those  days,  to  be  hoped  for. 
Since  then,  indeed,  there  has  been  a  great  change. 
The  first  race  of  settlers  have  made  their  farms 
valuable  hv  many  years'  hard  work  and  careful 
culture,  and  fine  brick  houses  have  taken  the  place 
of  the  shanties  and  log-houses  which  vScrved  at  first. 
Some  years  of  high  prices  made  them  all  think 
their  fortunes  sure  at  once,  and  every  one  got  his 
gig  and  his  piano,  and  the  girls  went  to  boarding- 
schools,  and  the  vounii:  men  idled  and  fiaunted 
round  in  fine  i  lothes.  If  fewer  leave  Canada  for 
the  States  no%v,  it  is  not  because  they  are  any 
fonder  than  evor  of  hard  work.  Even  where  their 
fiither's  fanns  would  pay  for  hiring  men  to  work 
them,  they  like  to  be  gentlemen,  and  flock  in 
crowds  to  turn  doctors  or  lawyers  in  as  easy  a  way 
as  possible.  It  is  wonderful  how  many  there  are 
of  both  these  professions,  and  how  many  more 
hurry  on  to  enter  them.  But  there  were  no  such 
openings  in  the  early  days  of  our  settlement,  and 


Hard  Strmjjh'.s. 


3(Ui 


my  brothers  must  oithcr  liuve  plodded  on,  driving 
oxen  ;iiul  luK'in«i;,  idoniiliin;:;,  harrowing,  and  ilie 
hke,  or  have  k>l"t  tor  tlie  great  country  across  tho 
river.  Tlieychd  not  lind  life  veiy  sunny,  liowever, 
even  in  tlie  States,  and  l)oth  liad  hard  struggles  at 
lirst  to  ixet  on.  l*oor  Fredrrick,  indeed,  never  i^ot 
very  far  \\\)  in  the  world,  a  lever  cutting  him  ott' 
seme  years  after,  wIk'H  he  was  on  a  journey  in  the 
South,  lie  died  without  a  creature  he  knew  ni'ar 
him,  and  indeed  we  did  not  know  that  ho  Avas 
ij;ono  till  nearly  a  year  after.  l)a\id  gradually 
made  his  way,  and  has  long  been  comfortal)ly  set- 
tled in  a  rising  town  in  one  of  the  Western  States  ; 
hut  his  advancement  rose  from  his  luivino;  had  the 
good  fortune  to  buy  some  land  where  a  town  grew 
up  shortly  after,  which  enabled  him  to  make  a 
good  deal  of  money.  Our  household,  when  they 
liad  left  us,  was  very  quiet  compared  with  the  ])ast 
—  only  Robert,  Henry,  and  I  remaining,  with  my 
two  sisters  as  the  mistresses  of  the  mansion. 

What  a  curious  Robinson-Crusoe  life  we  led  in 
many  ways  in  those  first  years.  A  barrel  raised 
on  a  stand,  the  bottom  full  of  holes,  and  covered 
with  a  layer  of  straw,  and  a  number  of  chaimels 
iiouoed  out  in  the  board  cm  which  it  rested,  formed 
the  primitive  machine  for  our  soajvmaking.  All 
the  ashes  from  the  fires  were  thrown  into  the  bar 
rel,  and,  when  it  was  full,  a  quantity  of  water 
poured  into  it  made  the  alkaline  lev  that  was 
needed,  a  pail   at  the    edge  of  the   board   below 

26* 


mH^ 


il  ! 


i\ 


806 


Soap-makinij. 


catching  it  as  it  drained  off.  In  summer  time  it 
was  enouo;li  merely  to  throw  this  ley  into  another 
barrel,  put  in  the  fat  left  from  our  daily  table,  and 
stir  the  mixture  together  now  and  then,  and  the 
sun  made  soap  of  it,  without  any  further  trouble  on 
our  j)art.  In  colder  weather  it  had  to  be  put  on 
the  fire  until  the  desired  transmutation  had  been 
effected.  The  ley  looked  so  yery  like  strong  tea, 
that  I  was  often  afraid  of  some  accident,  where  any 
of  it  had  been  left  in  a  cup  or  bowl.  To  drink  it 
would  have  been  certain  and  awful  death,  as  we 
did  not  then  know  how  to  neutralize  the  effect  if 
we  had  taken  it.  Noah  Nash,  a  young  lad  in  the 
neighborhood,  was  all  but  fatally  poisoned  by  it  one 
day  ;  indeed,  nothing  sayed  him  but  his  presence 
of  mind,  and  the  fact  that  he  had  an  acid  in  the 
house.  Chancing  to  come  in  yery  much  heated, 
and  seeing  a  cupful  of  nice  strong-looking  tea  in 
the  window,  he  swallowed  nearly  the  whole  of  it 
before  he  had  time  to  think  that,  instead  of  tea,  it 
was  the  terrible  alkali  that  had  been  drawn  from 
tho  ashes.  The  serious  consequences  of  his  mis- 
take flashed  on  him  in  an  instant.  Snatchino-  a 
tumbler,  he  ruslied  to  tlie  cellar,  where,  })roy- 
identially,  there  h!ii)])ened  to  be  a  barrel  of  vinegar, 
and  in  a  moment  filled  the  glass,  and  drank  down 
successiye  draughts  of  it,  and  was  thus  sayed,  the 
acid  effectually  neutralizinij;  the  alkali  in  the  stom- 
ach  ;  but,  quick  as  he  had  been,  his  mouth  and 
throat  were  burned  to  such  a  degree  by  the  potash, 


Home-made  Candles, 


307 


^ 


that  the  skin  of  the  mouth  peeled  away,  day  after 
day,  m  strips,  and  he  had  to  be  fed  on  the  simplest 
preparations  long  afterwards.  Our  candles  were  a 
branch  of  home  manufacture  in  which  we  rather 
excelled  after  a  time,  though,  to  tell  the  tmth,  the 
ijuantity  used  was  not  very  great.  We  had 
l)()iio;ht  candle-moulds  of  tin,  and  put  aside  any  fat 
suiuible  for  candles,  till  we  had  enovigh  to  make 
what  woidd  fill  them ;  and  then,  what  threading 
the  wicks  into  the  moulds  at  one  end,  and  tvinii; 
them  over  little  pieces  of  \>ood  at  the  other  —  what 
proud  encomiums  over  one  that  kept  ftiir  in  the 
middle  —  what  a  lauMi  at  another  which  had  in 
some  eccentric  way  run  down  one  side  of  the  tal- 
low, leaving  the  whole  round  of  the  candle  undis- 
turbed by  any  intrusion  of  the  cotton.  But  we 
would  not  have  made  the  fortune  of  any  tallow- 
chandler  had  we  had  to  buy  all  we  burned,  for  we 
only  lighted  ne  at  tea,  or  for  a  minute  or  two  on 
going  .0  .1,  or  to  enable  some  one  to  read,  when 
a  craving  for  literary  food  set  in.  Lumps  of  pine, 
fuU  of  resin,  were  our  more  customary  style  of 
illumi  lation,  its  flaming  brightiiess,  leaping  and 
flarino-  thouorh  it  was,  sufficincc  tor  our  ordinary 
requirements.  We  used  to  sit  for  hours  round  the 
fire,  talking  and  dozino; ;  to  read  was  a  huge  efibrt, 
after  hard  work  all  day,  and  it  M-as  too  cold,  while 
tlie  fire  was  kept  up,  to  sit  at  any  distance  from  it. 
In  some  houses.  .!.  h'  ve  'vuown  candles  kept  as 
sacredly  for  doing  h  rior  (o  a  stranger  as  if  they 


.  j: 


I 


5  m- 


- '  i  1 


i 


'Vt   Is 


308 


Mude  Accommodation. 


ii^ 


had  been  made  of  silver.  A  rag  in  some  grease, 
in  a  saucer,  usually  served  for  a  lamp,  and  an  inch 
or  two  of  candle  was  only  brought  out  when  a 
guest  was  about  to  retire.  Many  a  ti)'ie  I  have 
known  even  visitors,  in  the  rough  bush,  sent  to  bed 
in  the  dark.  We  were,  however,  in  some  things, 
wonderfully  before  the  people  settled  back  from  the 
river.  Most  of  them  were  content  to  put  up  with 
the  very  rudest  accommodation  and  co  •  ^eniences  ; 
one  room,  containing  several  beds,  jlteu  holding 
not  only  a  whole  household,  but  any  passiiig  stran- 
ger. How  to  get  out  and  in,  unseen,  was  the 
great  difficulty.  I  have  often  been  in  trouble  about 
it  myself,  but  it  must  surely  have  been  worse  for 
the  young  women  of  the  family.  As  to  any  basin 
or  ewer  in  the  room,  they  were  Capuan  luxuries  in 
the  wild  bush.  "  I'll  thank  you  for  a  basin,  Mrs. 
Smith,"  said  I,  one  morning,  anxious  to  make  my- 
self comfortable  for  the  day,  after  having  enjoyed  h'  i 
husband's  hos])itality  overnight.  It  was  gloriousi\ 
bright  outside,  though  the  sun  had  not  yet  shown 
himself  over  the  trees.  "  Come  this  way,  Islr. 
Stanley ;  I'll  give  it  you  here,"  said  Mrs.  Smith. 
Out  she  went,  and  lifted  a  small  round  tin  pie-dish, 
that  would  hold  hardly  a  quart,  poured  some  water 
into  it  from  the  pail  at  the  door,  which  held  the 
breakfast  water  as  well,  and  set  it  on  the  top  u?  u 
stump,  close  at  hand,  with  the  injunction  to  "  niok  • 
haste,  for  there  was  a  hole  in  the  bottom,  and  if  I 
didn't    be  quick    the  water  would   all   be   gone." 


>i-U 


Writing  Letters. 


309 


Luckily,  I  was  all  ready  ;  but  there  was  no  offer  of 
soap,  and  so  I  had  to  make  my  hands  fly  hither  and 
thither  at  a  great  rate,  and  finish  as  best  I  could  by 
a  hard  rubbing  with  a  canvas  towel. 

To  write  a  letter  in  those  days  was  by  no  means 
a  light  task.  Ink  was  a  rare  commodity,  and  stood 
a  great  deal  of  water  before  it  -was  doni?.  When 
we  had  none,  a  piece  of  Indian-ink  served  pretty 
well ;  and  when  that  was  lost,  we  Used  to  mix 
gunpowder  and  vinegar  together,  and  make  a  kind 
of  faintly-visible  pigment  out  of  the  two.  The  only 
paper  we  could  get  was  dreadful.  How  cruelly  the 
pen  used  to  dab  through  it !  How  invincibly 
shabby  a  letter  looked  on  it !  The  post-office  was 
in  a  store  kept  by  a  French  Canadian,  and  was 
limited  enouo;h  in  its  arranojements.  I  remembei 
taking  a  letter  one  day  a  little  later  than  was  right, 
as  it  appeared.  "  The  m'ail's  made  up,  Mr.  Stanley," 
said  the  post-master,  "  and  it's  against  the  law  to 
open  it  when  it's  once  sealed ;  but  I  suppose  I  may 
as  well  oblige  a  friend."  So  saying,  he  took  down 
a  piece  of  brown  paper  from  the  shelf  behind  him, 
cut  round  some  seals  which  were  on  the  back  of  it, 
and  exposed  the  "  mail ;  "  which,  forsooth,  I  found 
consisted  of  a  single  letter  !  Mine  was  presently 
laid  peaceftdly  at  the  side  of  this  earlier  sharer  of 
postal  honor,  and  I  hope  did  not  make  the  bundle 
too  heavy  for  the  mail-boy's  saddle-bags. 

It  used  to  amuse  us  to  see  how  readily  every  one 
round   us  took  to  new    occupations,  if  any  thing 


m 


;*' 


Iffflf 


310 


^ew  Occupations. 


m'A 


hindered  his  continuing  the  one  in  whicli  he  had 
previously  been  engaged.  You  would  hear  of  a 
tailor  turning  freshwater  sailor,  and  buying  a  flat- 
bottomed  scow,  to  take  goods  from  one  part  of  the 
river  to  another  ;  one  shoemaker  turned  miller,  and 
another  took  to  makino;  and  selling  "  lumber."  A 
young  lad,  the  son  of  a  minister,  who  wished  to  get 
-  j-^ood  education,  first  iiired  himself  out  to  choj) 
e.  1-wood,  and  when  he  had  made  enough  to  buy 
books,  and  keep  a  reserve  on  hand,  he  engaged 
with  a  minister  over  the  river,  who  had  an  "  acad- 
emy," to  give  him  tuition,  in  return  for  liaving  his 
horse  cleaned,  and  the  house-wood  split.  Working 
thus,  he  gained  Latin  and  Greek  enough  to  go  to 
college ;  but  had  to  return  to  his  axe,  and  work  for 
another  winter,  to  get  money  to  pay  the  expenses 
of  the  first  session.  This  obtained,  off  lie  set,  and 
ended  by  taking  the  degree  of  M.  A.  at  Yale  College, 
Connecticut.  In  the  mean  time,  however,  a  change 
had  passed  over  liis  mind  as  to  becoming  a  clergy- 
man ;  and  instead  of  seeking  a  church,  he  went  in- 
to partnership  with  his  brother  in  the  patent  medi- 
cine trade,  in  which  calling,  I  suppose,  he  is  now 
engao-ed  in  one  of  the  United  States'  cities. 

I  was  once  travelling  on  a  winter  night,  in  a 
public  stage,  on  the  edge  of  Lake  Ontario.  The 
vehicle  was  a  high  wagon,  with  a  linen  cover 
stretched  over  around  framework,  lik«  a  gipsy  tent. 
I  was  the  only  passenger,  and  had  taken  my  place 
in  the  body  of  the  machine.     This  did  not  suit  the 


The  Parson  for  Driver, 


311 


driver,  however,  who  seemed  to  feel  lonely ;  and, 
after  a  time,  turning  round  to  me,  said  —  "I  guess 
we'd  be  better  to";ether  this  cold  niMit.  Come  this 
way  —  wont  you?  "  Of  course,  I  instantly  com- 
plied ;  and  then  received,  among  much  various 
information  on  matters  interesting  to  coach-drivers, 
a  narrative  of  his  own  life,  a  portion  of  which  I 
still  remember : 

**  I'm  a  reg'lar  preacher,  you  see,"  said  he.  *^  I 
was  on  the  circuit  round  Framley  for  one  turn,  and 
they  promised  pretty  fair,  but  I  didn't  get  enough 
to  keep  house  on.  Then  I  got  changed  to  Dover 
circuit,  and  that  was  worse.  Says  I  to  my  wife  — 
'  Wife,'  says  I,  '  preachin'  wont  keep  our  pot  bilin,' 
anyhow  —  I  must  scare  up  somethin'  else,  somehow.* 
So  I  heard  that  there  was  a  new  stage  to  be  put  on 
at  Brownsville ;  and  I  Avent  to  Squire  Brown,  and 
told  him  that,  if  he  liked,  I'd  drive  it ;  and  so, 
here  I  am  —  for,  you  see,  the  mail-stage  has  to  go, 
even  if  a  parson  should  have  to  drive  it ;"  and  he 
ended  with  a  broad  grin  and  a  long  laugh  —  ha  — 
ha — ha  I 


"'      H 


'<.,ll 


312 


Americanisms. 


-jitf  _ 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

Americanisms.  —  Our  poultry.  —  The  wasps.  —  Their  nests.  — 
"  IJob's  "  skill  In  killing  them.  —  Raccoons.  —  A  hunt.  —  Rac- 
coon cake.  —  The  town  of  Busaco.  —  Summer  "  sailing  "  —  Boy 
drowned.  —  French  settlers. 

WE  were  struck,  as  every  new  comer  is,  by  the 
new  meanings  put  by  Canadians  on  woids, 
tlie  new  connections  in  which  they  used  them,  and 
the  extraordinary  way  in  wliich  some  were  pro- 
nounced. Of  course,  we  heard  people  "  guessing  " 
at  every  turn,  and  whatever  any  one  intended 
doing,  he  spoke  of  as  "  fixing."  You  would  hear 
a  man  say,  that  his  wagon,  or  his  chimney,  or  his 
gun,  must  be  "  fixed ; "  a  girl  would  be  ready  to 
take  a  walk  with  you,  as  soon  as  she  had  "  fixed 
herself;  "  and  the  baby  was  always  "  fixed"  in  the 
mornino;,  when  washed  and  dressed  for  the  dav. 
"  Catherine,"  said  a  husband  one  day  to  his  wife, 
in  my  hearing,  pronouncing  the  last  syllable  of  her 
name,  so  as  to  rhyme  with  line,  "  I  calculate  that 
them  apples  '11  want  regulatin',"  referring  to  some 
that  were  drying  in  the  sun.  *They  "  reckon  "  at 
every  third  sentence.  A  well-informed  man  is  said 
to  be  "  well  posted  up  "  in  some  particular  subject. 


Americanisms. 


313 


Instead  of  "  wliat,"  they  very  commonly  say 
"  hoNV,"  in  asking  questions.  A  Jiony  was  praised 
to  me  as  being  *'  as  fat  as  mud."  In  place  of  our 
exclamations  of  surj)rise  at  the  communication  of 
any  new  fact,  the  hstener  will  exclaim,  ''  I  want  to 
know."  Any  log,  or  trunk  of  a  tree,  or  other 
single  piece  of  timber,  is  invariably  a  "  stick,"  even 
if  it  be  long;  enouo;li  for  a  mast.  All  the  stock  of 
a  timber-yard  is  alike  "  lumber."  An  ewer  is  "  a 
])itcher  ;  "  a  tin-pail  is  "  a  kettle  ;  "  a  servant  is  "  a 
help  ;  "  an  employer  is  "  a  boss  ;  "  a  church  pew  is 
"  a  slip  ;  "  a  platform  at  a  meeting  is  "  a  stage  ;'' 
children  are  "juveniles  ;  "  and  a  baby  is  "  a  babe." 
In  pronouncing  the  word  engine,  or  ride,  or  j)<)int, 
or  any  other  word  with  vowels  prominent  in  it,  if 
you  would  imitate  a  Canadian,  you  would  need  to 
open  your  mouth  very  w  ide,  and  make  as  much  of 
each  sound  as  you  can.  Of  course,  I  speak  only  of 
the  country  folks,  native  born  ;  the  town  })eople, 
and  the  educated  classes,  generally  speak  as  correctly 
as  the  same  classes  in  England.  We  cannot  help 
noticing,  moreover,  that  all  these  corruptions  are 
trifling  compared  with  those  which  we  find  in  the 
popular  dialects  of  different  parts  of  our  own  country. 
You  can  travel  all  throuiyh  Canada  and  understand 
every  thing  you  hear,  except  a  word  now  and  then  ; 
but  at  home,  to  pass  from  one  shire  to  another  is 
often  like  passing  to  a  different  people,  so  far  as 
regards  the  language.  The  great  amount  of  travel- 
ling now-a-days  compared  with  the  fixed  life  of  our 

27        » 


If.' 


M 


r 


r 


41 


^■A 


f^ 


314 


Our  Poultry. 


;■  ( 


:u 


forefathers,  may  serve  to  account  for  this.  People 
of  every  nation  meet  in  Canada,  and  all  come  to 
speak  very  nearly  alike,  because  they  move  about 
so  much  ;  but  the  various  races  that  settled  in 
]^]iigland  or  Scotland  ages  ago  kept  together  closely, 
and  consequently  each  learned  to  speak  in  a  wa\ 
of  its  own. 

Our  poultry  increased  very  soon  after  our  com- 
mencing on  the  river,  until  it  became  quite  a  flock  ; 
but  we  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble  with  them.  TJie 
weasels  were  very  destructive  to  the  chickens,  and 
so  were  the  lien-hawks,  and  chicken-hawks,  which 
W'.'re  always  prowling  round.  But  the  hens  man- 
aged to  beat  off  the  last  of  these  enemies,  and  a 
terrible  noise  they  made  in  doing  so.  The  whole 
barn-yard  population  used  to  give  Robert  great 
annoyance,  by  Hying  over  the  fence  he  had  put  up 
round  a  piece  of  ground  set  apart  as  a  garden  ;  but 
lie  succeeded  in  terrifying  them  at  last,  by  rushinif 
out  with  a  long  whip  whenever  they  made  their 
a]:)})earance.  The  very  sight  of  him  was  enough, 
after  a  time,  to  send  them  oif  with  outstretched 
wings  and  necks,  and  the  most  amazing  screeches 
and  cackling ;  it  was  laughable  to  see  their  conster- 
nation and  precipitate  flight.  Our  turkeys  were  a 
nuisance  as  well  as  a  comfort  to  us  :  they  were 
much  given  to  wandering,  and  so  stupid  withal, 
that  if  they  once  got  into  the  woods  we  rarely  saw 
them  again.  The  only  plan  was  to  have  their  wings 
cut  close,  and  to  keep  them  shut  up  in  the  barn- 


Large  Qaant'dles  of  Eggs. 


316 


yard.  In  compensation  for  this  trouble,  liowevi-r, 
we  took  ample  revenge  both  on  tliem  and  the  cocks 
and  hens,  alike  in  person  and  in  the  harvest  of  eggs, 
which  formed  a  main  element  in  most  of  our  dishes. 
We  needed  all  we  could  get.  As  to  eggs,  it  seemed 
as  if  any  quantity  would  have  been  consumed. 
There  was  to  be  a  "  bee  "  one  time,  to  raise  a  second 
barn  ;  and  my  sisters  were  in  great  concern  becaus 
they  could  not  find  out  wliere  the  hens  were  laying. 
At  last,  they  saw  one  go  down  a  hole  in  the  barn 
floor,  and  instantly  concluded  they  had  discovered 
the  secret  hoard.  A  plank  was  forthwith  lifted, 
and  there,  sure  enough,  were  no  less  than  twenty 
dozen  of  eggs  lying  in  one  part  or  another.  It  was 
hard  work  to  get  them  out,  but  Henry  and  I  helped, 
and  we  brought  them  all  to  the  house.  In  a  week 
or  ten  days  there  were  not  two-dozen  left.  The 
men  wdio  had  attended  the  "  bee,"  and  one  or  two 
whom  we  kept  on  at  wages,  had  devoured  them  all 
in  cakes  and  puddings,  or  in  the  ordinary  way. 
But  what  would  these  bush-fellows  not  get  down  ? 
One  day,  we  had  a  laborer  with  us,  and  Eliza,  to 
please  him,  set  out  a  large  glass  dish  of  preserves, 
holding,  certainly,  a  pound  \\  j;ht  at  the  least. 
She  thought,  of  course,  he  would  take  a  little  to  his 
bread ;  but  his  notions  on  the  subject  were  very 
different,  for,  drawing  the  dish  to  him,  and  taking 
up  a  tablespoon,  he  sui)ped  down  the  whole  in  a 
succession  of  huge  mouthfuls.  I  have  known  a 
hired  man  eat  a  dozen  of  eggs  at  his  breakfast ! 


I 


lv;/ 


316 


Wasps. 


«: 


The  wasps  were  very  numerous  round  the  house 
in  sunnner.  A  nest  of  these  creatures  ens(;once(l 
tliemselves  m  a  hole  between  two  loj^js,  in  tlie  front 
j)art  of  it,  and,  as  they  never  trouble  us,  we  did  not 
trouble  them.  But  not  so  our  little  terrier,  lioli. 
The  mouth  of  the  nest  was  about  a  vard  from  the 
oi'ound,  and  admitted  only  one  at  a  time.  liehnv 
this.  Bob  would  take  his  seat  for  hours  tooethei-, 
watchino;  each  arrival ;  sometimes  lettinn;  them  oi) 
in  peaceably,  but  every  now  and  then  jum])inii;  up 
at  them,  with  his  lips  drawn  back,  and  <2;iviiio;  a 
snap  which  seldom  failed  to  kill  them.  The  little 
fellow  seemed  to  have  quite  a  passion  for  wasp- 
hunting.  The  dead  proofs  of  his  success  would 
often  lie  thick  over  the  ground  by  evening.  How 
the  colony  ever  bore  up  against  his  attacks  I  cannot 
imagine.  One  day  we  saw  John  Robinson,  a  la- 
borer, whom  wc  had  engaged,  rushing  down  in  hot 
haste  from  the  top  of  the  field,  flinging  his  arms 
al)f>ut  in  every  direction,  and  making  the  most 
extraordinary  bobbing  and  fighting,  apj)arently  at 
nothing.  But,  as  he  got  near,  he  roared  out,  "  I've 
tumbled  a  wasp's-nest,  and  they're  after  me,"  and 
tliis  was  all  we  could  cret  out  of  him  for  some  time. 
Indeed  they  follow^ed  him  quite  a  distance.  lie 
fiad  been  lifting  a  log  that  was  imbedded  in  the 
ground,  when,  behold  !  out  rushed  a  whole  townful, 
sendino;  him  off  at  once  in  iiTjnominious  flioht.  I 
used  to  think  the  nests  of  the  wasps,  whiclf  we 
Bometimes   found   hanging   from   branches  in  the 


Ilaccoom. 


817 


woods,  most  wonderful  specimens  of  insect  manu 
facture.  They  were  oval  in  form,  with  the  mouth 
at  the  bottom,  and  looked  often  not  unlike  a  clumsily 
made  boy's  to]).  But  of  what  material  do  you 
think  they  were  consti;ju'ted  ?  Of  paper — rral 
true  paper,  of  a  greyish  color,  made  by  the  wasps 
gnawin*;'  otf  very  small  pieces  of  decayed  wood, 
which  thev  bruise  and  work  up  till  it  chanues  its 
character,  and  becomes  as  much  paj)er  as  any  we 
can  make  ourselves.  It  is  wonderful  that  men 
should  not  have  found  out,  from  such  a  lesson,  the 
art  of  making  this  most  precious  production  much 
sooner  than  they  did. 

The  raccoons,  usually  called  'coons,  were  a  great 
nuisance  when  the  corn  was  getting  ripe.  They 
came  out  of  the  woods  at  night,  and  did  a  great 
deal  of  mischief  in  a  very  short  time.  We  used  to 
luuit  them  by  torchlight,  the  torches  being  stri])s 
of  hickory  bark,  or  lumps  of  fat  pine.  We  could 
have  done  nothing,  however,  without  the  help  of 
our  dogs,  who  tracked  them  to  the  trees  in  which 
they  had  taken  refuge,  and  then  v  •-  lot  them  by 
the  help  of  the  lights,  amidst  prodigious  excitement 
and  commotion.  It  was  very  dangerous  to  catch 
liokl  of  one  of  them  if  it  fell  wounded.  They 
could  twist  their  heads  so  far  round,  and  their  skin 
was  so  loose,  that  you  were  never  sure  you  would 
not  get  a  bite  in  wliatever  way  you  held  them. 
The  Weirs,  close  to  us,  got  skins  enough  one 
autumn    to  make   fine  robes   for   their   sleigh.     I 

27* 


I 


Si  I 


f|.;|lil: 


wt 

'  f  1 

\ 

f-    ^ 

'     M 


:J 


J518  A  liaccoon  Hunt. 

never  knew  but  one  man  who  li;i(l  eaten  raccoon, 
.and  lie  was  no  wiser  tlian  he  needc'l  to  be.  He 
was  a  farm-laborer,  wlio  stannnered  .ns  speecli, 
and  lived  all  alone,  and  was  deplorably  i<i;norant. 
Meetino;  him  one  day  after  a  hunt,  in  which  he  had 
^ot  !i  large  raccoon  for  his  share,  he  stopped  me  to 
speak  of  it  thus  — '  Gre-e-at  rac-ocoon  that  — 
tliere  was  a  ])-i)Int  of  oil  in  him  —  it  m-made  a-a 
m-most  beautiful  shortcake !  "  I  wished  him  joy 
of  his  taste. 

I  rememb'cr  one  raccoon  hunt  which  formed  a 
subiect  of  convers'ition  for  lonij:  after.  Mr.  Weir's 
field  of  Indian  C(.>rn  had  been  sadl}  'ured,  and 
our  own  was  not  much  better,  so  we  jtcsolved  on 
destroying  some  of  the  marauders  if  possible.  All 
the  young  fellows  for  miles  up  and  down  the  river, 
gathered  in  the  afternoon,  to  get  a  long  talk  bel'ore- 
liand,  and  to  make  every  preparation.  Some  of 
us  saw  to  the  torches  —  that  there  were  plenty  of 
them,  and  that  they  were  of  the  right  kind  of 
wood ;  others  looked  to  the  guns,  to  have  them 
properly  cleaned,  and  the  ammunition  ready.  "  I 
say,  Ned  Thompson,"  said  one,  "I  hope  you  wont 
be  making  such  a  noise  as  you  did  last  time,  fright- 
ening the  very  dogs."  But  the  speaker  was  only 
told,  in  return,  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  everybody 
else,  and  not  run  the  risk  of  being  taken  for  a  'coon 
himself  as  he  went  creeping  along.  In  due  time 
all  work  was  over  for  the  night  on  our  farm,  the 
dogs  collected^  a  hearty  supper  enjoyed,  amidst  the 


A  liaccoon  Hunt. 


;U9 


1  raccoon, 
l)c.  Ho 
IS  speccli, 
iViiorant. 
eh  lio  had 
\K'd  me  to 
n  that  — 
■made  a-a 
1  him  joy 

formed  a 
[r.  Weir's 
m*ed,  and 
'solved  (111 
ible.     All 
the  river, 
Ik  before- 
Some   of 
plenty  of 
kind  of 
ave  them 
ady.     "  I 
you  wont 
le,  frioht- 
was  only 
verybody 
[)r  a  'coon 
due  time 
farm,  the 
midst  the 


boasts  of 


1  th 


)kes  of  othuis,  :iud  off  wo 


)asts  ot  some  and  tne  joKes  oi  oiiieis,  .vna 
s(  t.  The  moon  was  very  youn«jj,  but  it  luuig  in 
the  clear  heavens  like  a  silver  ))ow.  A  short  walk 
In-ought  us  to  the  forest,  and  here  we  spread  our- 
selves, so  as  to  take  a  larger  sweej),  intending  that 
the  two  wIn<LS  should  irnulually  draw  round  and 

~  O  I.' 

make  |)art  of  a  circle.  We  could  see  the  crescent 
of  the  moon,  eveiy  now  and  then,  through  the 
fretted  ro()f  of  branches,  but  it  would  have  been 
very  dark  on  the  siu-face  of  the  ground  had  not  the 
torches  lent  us  their  b'  ightness.  As  it  was,  many 
a  stumble  checked  our  steps.  It  was  rough  work 
—  over  logs,  into  wet  spots,  round  trees,  through 
brush,  with  countless  stubs  and  j)ieces  of  wood  to 
keej)  y(  u  in  mind  that  you  must  lift  your  feet  well, 
like  the  Indians,  if  you  did  not  wish  to  be  tripped 
up.  The  light  gleaming  through  the  great  trees 
on  tlie  wild  })icture  of  men  and  dogs,  now  glaring 
in  the  red  flame  of  the  torches,  now  hidden  by  the 
smoke,  was  very  exciting.  The  dogs  had  not,  as 
yet,  scented  any  thing,  but  they  gradually  got 
ahead  of  us.  Presently  we  heard  the  first  baying 
and  barking.  We  forthwith  made  for  the  spot, 
creeping  up  as  silently  as  possible,  while  the  dogs 
kept  the  distracted  raccoon  from  making  its  escape. 
IIow  to  get  a  glimpse  of  it  was  the  trouble. 
"  There's  nothing  there  that  I  can  see,"  whispered 
Brown  to  me  ;  but  the  dogs  showed  that  they 
thought  differently,  by  the  way  they  tore  and 
Bcratchcd  at  the  bottom  of  the  tree.     What  with 


■111,  i^ijij ,.>||! 


1i 


in 


h^ 


k 


t' 


'IkI  Mi' 


'>  i 


.:(>« 


:ii 


■  1     <H     3*11 


yM 


•rli 


320 


The  Toivn  of  Busaco. 


tlic  leaves,  the  feebleness  of  the  moonhght,  and  our 
distance  from  tlie  object,  every  eye  was  strained, 
for  a  time,  witliout  seeing*  a  sign  of  any  thing  livinu;. 
At  last,  IJenry  motioned  that  he  saw  it,  and  sure 
enough  there  it  was,  its  shaj)e  visible  far  up  on  a 
branch.  Another  moment  and  tlie  sharj)  crack  of 
his  rifle  herahled  its  death  and  descent  to  tiie 
iiround.  We  had  <>()od  success  after  this  first  hickv 
shot,  which  had  been  only  one  of  many  fired  at 
what  seemed  to  be  the  raccoon,  but  had  been  only  a 
knot  in  the  tree,  or,  |)erha])s,  a  shadow.  We  did 
not  come  home  till  late,  when,  with  dogs  almost  as 
tired  as  ourselves,  the  whole  party  re-assembk'd, 
each  bearing  oft'  his  spoils  with  him  if  he  had  won 
any. 

1  was  walking  nj)  the  road  one  aftei'noon  with 
my  brother,  when  we  came  to  an  opening  on  tlie 
right  liand,  a])j)arently  only  leading  into  ])athless 
woods.  Stopj)ing  me,  however,  Henry  turned  and 
asked,  "  If  I  saw  yon  post  stuck  up  in  the  Httle 
o})en  ?  "  It  was  some  time  before  1  could  make  it 
out.  At  last  I  noticed  what  he  alluded  to  —  simply 
a  rough  ])ost,  six  feet  high,  stuck  into  the  ground, 
in  the  middle  of  unbroken  desolation.  "•  That's 
the  centre  of  the  market-place  in  the  town  of  lUi- 
saco,  that  is  to  be,"  said  he.  ^'  All  this  ground  is 
surveyed  for  a  city,  and  is  laid  out  in  building  lots, 
—  not  in  farms."  1  could  not  help  lauirhinir. 
There  was  not  a  sign  of  human  habitation  in  sight, 
and    the    post   must   have   been    there   lor   years. 


The  Town  of  Busaco, 


321 


When  it  will  be  a  town  it  is  very  hard  to  conjec- 
ture. It  stand'i  on  the  outside  of  a  swam})y  belt, 
which  must  have  deterred  any  one  from  settling  in 
it,  and  towns  don't  go  before  agricultural  improve- 
ment, but  follow  it,  in  such  a  country  as  Canada, 
or,  indeed,  anywhere,  except  in  a  merely  manu- 
facturing district,  or  at  some  point  on  a  busy  line 
of  travel.  Some  time  after,  a  poor  man  effected 
one  great  step  towards  its  settlement,  by  a  very 
unintentional  improvement.  He  had  a  little 
money,  and  thought  that  if  he  dug  a  deep,  broad 
ditch,  from  the  swamp  to  the  river,  he  could  get 
enough  water  to  drive  a  mill,  which  he  intended  to 
build  close  to  the  bank.  But  it  turned  out,  after 
the  ditch  was  dug,  and  his  money  gone,  that  the 
water,  which  he  thought  came  into  the  swamp 
from  springs,  was  nothing  but  rain,  that  had 
lodged  in  the  low  places,  and  had  been  kept  there 
by  the  roots  of  trees  and  the  want  of  drainage. 
For  a  time,  the  stream  was  beautiful,  but,  after  a 
little,  the  swamp  got  better,  and  the  stream  dimin 
ished,  until,  in  a  few  weeks,  the  channel  was  dry, 
and  the  swamp  became  good  land.  I  hope  the  poor 
fellow  had  bouo-ht  it  before  commencino;  his  ditch. 
If  so,  he  would  make  money  after  all,  as  his  im- 
provement raised  its  value  immensely. 

A  number  of  the  young  men  of  the  huml)ler 
class  along  the  river,  used  to  go  away  each  summer 
"sailing"  —  that  is,  they  hired  as  sailors  on  the 
American   vessels,  which   traded   in   whole   fleets 


?',,  r 


0  90 


Summer  ^'' Sailing.''^ 


IS  !    ■ 


It. -4  I, 


if, 


between  the  eastern  and  western  towns  on  the 
great  lakes.  It  was  a  very  good  thing  for  them 
tliat  they  could  earn  money  so  easily,  but  the 
employment  was  not  always  free  from  danger. 
One    lad,    whom    I    knew   very   well  —  William 

Forth,  the  son  of  a  decent  Scotch  tailor — was  lost 

• 

in  it  in  the  n,utumn  of  our  jcond  year.  He  had 
sailed  for  Lake  Superior,  and  did  not  return  at  the 
time  ex])ected.  Then  his  friends  began  to  be  anx- 
ious, especially  when  they  heard  the  news  of  a 
great  storm  in  the  north-west.  He  was  never 
heard  of  again,  and  no  doubt  perished  with  all  the 
crew,  his  vessel  having  foundered  in  the  gale. 
Years  after,  it  was  reported  that  a  schooner,  sailing 
along  the  upper  coast  of  Lake  Huron,  came  upon 
the  wreck  of  a  small  ship,  down  in  the  clear 
waters,  and  found  means  of  hooking  up  enough  to 
show  that  it  was  the  one  in  which  our  poor  neigh- 
bor's son  had  been  engaged.  Curiously  and  sadly 
enough,  a  second  son  of  the  same  parents  met  a 
miserable  death  some  years  after.  He  was  attend- 
ing a  threshing-mill,  driven  by  horses,  and  had  for 
his  part  to  thrust  in  the  straw  to  "  feed  it ; "  but 
he,  unfortunately,  thrust  it  in  too  far,  and  was  him- 
self drawn  in,  and  crushed  between  the  innumera- 
ble teeth  by  which  the  grain  is  pressed  out.  Be- 
fore the  machine  could  be  stopped,  poor  James  was 
cut  almost  to  pieces.  Thus  even  the  peaceful  St. 
Clair  had  its  share  in  the  trials  that  follow  man 
mider  all  skies. 


A  Boy  Drowned. 


323 


Occasionally,  accidents  and  calamities  of  this  kind 
would  happen  close  to  us,  and  I  could  not  but  be 
struck  at  the  depth  of  feeling  to  which  they  gave 
rise  amidst  a  thin  population.  The  tenant  on  the 
only  let  farm  in  the  neighborhood,  who  lived  a 
mile  from  us,  lost  a  beautiful  boy  in  a  most  distress- 
ing way.  There  was  a  wood  wharf  close  to  his 
house,  from  the  end  of  which  the  lad  used  to  bathe 
on  fine  summer  evenings.  A  number  of  them 
were  amusing  themselves  thus,  one  afternoon, 
when  Mrs.  Gilbert,  the  wife  of  the  person  of  wliom 
I  speak,  coming  out  from  her  work,  chanced  to 
look  at  them,  and  saw  one  who  was  diving  and 
swimming,  as  she  thought,  very  strangely.  A  lit- 
tle after,  they  brought  her  the  news  that  her  boy 
was  drowned,  and  it  turned  out  that  it  had  been 
his  struggles  at  which  she  had  been  looking  with 
such  unconcern.  The  poor  woman  took  to  her 
bed  for  weeks  directly  she  found  it  out,  and  seemed 
broken-hearted  ever  after. 

The  number  of  French  in  our  neighborhood,  and 
the  names  of  the  towns  and  places  on  the  map,  all 
along  the  western  lakes  and  rivers,  often  struck 
me.  Beginning  with  Nova  Scotia,  we  trace  them 
the  whole  way  —  proofs  of  the  sway  France  once 
had  in  North  America.  The  bays  and  headlands, 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Far  West,  bear  French 
names.  For  instance,  Cape  Breton,  and  its  capi- 
tal, Louisburg,  and  Maine,  and  Vermont,  in  the 
States.     All  Lower  Canada  was  French  ;  then  we 


if  I 


''fi:l 


324 


An  Indian  Device. 


«» 


? 


have  Detroit  on  Lake  St.  Clair ;  Sault  Ste.  Marie 
at  Lake  Superior  ;  besides  a  string  of  old  French 
names  all  down  the  Mississippi,  at  the  mouth  of 
which  was  the  whilom  French  province  of  Louisi- 
ana, on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  Tiiis  shows  signifi- 
cantly the  great  vicissitudes  that  occur  in  the  story 
of  a  nation.  But  our  own  history  has  tauHit  us 
the  same  lesson.  All  the  United  States  were  once 
British  provinces. 

I  hpd  come  out  early  one  morning,  in  spring,  to 
look  at  the  glorious  river  which  lay  for  miles  like  a 
mirror  before  me,  when  my  attention  was  attracted 
to  a  canoe  with  a  great  green  bush  at  one  end  of  it, 
floating,  apparently  empty,  down  the  current.  I 
soon  noticed  a  hand,  close  at  the  side,  slowly  scull- 
ing it  by  a  paddle,  and  keeping  the  bush  down  the 
stream.  As  it  glided  past,  I  watched  it  narrowly. 
A  great  flock  of  wild  ducks  were  splashing  and 
diving  at  some  distance  below  ;  but  so  slowly  and 
silently  did  the  canoe  drift  on,  that  they  did  not 
seem  to  heed  it.  All  at  once,  a  pufF  of  smoke  from 
the  bush,  and  the  sound  of  a  gun,  with  the  fall  of 
a  number  of  ducks,  killed  and  wounded,  on  the 
water,  plainly  showed  what  it  meant.  An  Indian 
instantly  rose  up  in  the  canoe,  and  paddled  with  all 
haste  to  the  spot  to  pick  up  the  game.  It  was  a 
capital  plan  to  cheat  the  poor  birds,  and  get  near 
enough  to  kill  a  good  number.  There  were  im- 
mense flocks  of  waterfowl,  after  the  ice  broke  up, 
each  yeai' ;   but  they  were   so   shy  that  we  were 


e.  Marie 
French 
louth  of 
F  Loiiisi- 
s  si'o-nifi- 
lie  story 
■iuo;lit  us 
ere  once 

prino;,  to 

les  like  a 

attracted 

3nd  of  it, 

•rent.     I 

.'ly  scull- 

lown  the 

rrowly. 

ing   and 

wly  and 

did  not 

\e  from 

full  of 

on   the 

Indian 

with  all 

was  a 

;et  near 

ere  im- 

oke  up, 

e  were 


i , 


H:^l 


Ml 


!UI>' 


r       %' 


Coote^s  Paradise, 


825 


very  little  the  hotter  for  them.  It  was  very  differ- 
ent in  earlier  days,  before  population  increased,  and 
incessant  alarm  and  pursuit  had  made  them  wild, 
for  the  whole  province  must  once  have  been  a 
great  sporting  ground.  There  is  a  marsh  on  Lake 
Ontario,  not  far  from  Hamilton,  called  Coote's 
Paradise,  from  the  delight  which  an  officer  of  that 
name  found  in  the  myriads  of  ducks,  etc.,  which 
thronged  it  thirty  or  forty  years  ago. 


28 


If 


m  4 


\i 


r/ 


.  h 


'1 
1  '' 


Mi) 


325 


Apple-bees, 


CHAPTER    XX. 

Apple-bees.  —  Orchards.  —  Gorgeous  display  of  apple-blossom.  —  A 
meeting  in  the  woods.  —  The  ague.  —  Wild  parsnips.  —  Man  lost 
in  the  woodia. 


w 


E  had  a  great  deal  of  nin  when  our  orchard 
got  up  a  little,  and  when  we  were  able  to 
trade  with  our  neighbors  for  fruit,  in  what  they 
used  to  call  "  apple-paring  bees."  The  young  folks 
of  both  sexes  were  invited  for  a  given  evening  in 
the  autumn,  and  came  duly  provided  with  apple- 
parers,  which  are  ingenious  contrivances,  by  which 
an  apple,  stuck  on  two  prongs  at  one  end,  is  pared 
by  a  few  turns  of  the  handle  at  the  other.  It  is 
astonishing  ic  ?*^e  how  quickly  it  is  done.  Nor  is 
the  paring  all.  The  little  machine  makes  a  final 
thrust  through  the  heart  of  the  apple,  and  takes  out 
the  core,  so  as  to  leave  nothing  to  do  but  to  cut 
what  remains  in  pieces.  The  object  of  all  this  par- 
ing is  to  get  apples  enough  dried  for  tarts  during 
winter,  the  pieces  when  cut  being  threaded  in  long 
strings,  and  hung  up  till  they  shrivel  and  get  a 
leather-like  look.  When  wanted  for  use,  a  little 
boiling  makes  them  swell  to  their  original  size 
again,  and  bring  back  their  softness.     You  may 


Orchards, 


327 


imagine  how  plentiful  the  fruit  must  be  to  make 
such  a  liberal  use  of  it  possible,  as  that  which  you 
see  all  through  Canada.  You  can  hardly  go  into 
any  house  in  the  bush,  however  poor,  without  hav- 
ing a  large  bowl  of  '*  apple  sass  '*  set  before  you  — 
that  is,  of  apple  boiled  in  maple  sugar.  The  young 
folks  make  a  grand  night  of  it  when  the  "  bee  " 
comes  off.  The  laughing  and  frolic  is  unbounded ; 
some  are  busy  with  their  sweethearts ;  some,  of  a 
grosser  mind,  are  no  less  busy  with  the  apples, 
devouring  a  large  proportion  of  what  they  pare  ; 
and  the  whole  proceedings,  in  many  cases,  wind  up 
with  a  dance  on  the  barn-floor. 

While  speaking  of  orchards  and  fruit,  I  am  re- 
minded of  the  district  along  the  River  Thames, 
near  Lake  St.  Clair.  To  ride  through  it  in  June, 
when  the  apple-blossom  was  out,  was  a  sight  as 
beautiful  as  it  was  new  to  my  old  country  eyes.  A 
great  rolling  sea  of  white  and  red  flowers  rose  and 
fell  with  the  undulations  of  the  landscape,  the  green 
lost  in  the  universal  blossoming.  So  exhaustless, 
indeed,  did  it  seem,  even  to  the  farmers  themselves, 
that  you  could  not  enter  one  of  their  houses  with- 
out seeing  quantities  of  it  stuck  into  jugs  and  bowls 
of  all  sorts,  as  huge  bouquets,  like  ordinary  flowers, 
or  as  if,  instead  of  the  blossom  of  splendid  apples,  it 
had  been  only  hawthorn.  Canadian  apples  are  in- 
deed excellent  —  that  is,  the  good  kinds.  You  see 
thousand  of  bushels  small  and  miserable  enough, 
but  they  are  used  only  for  pigs,  or  for  throwing  by 


■s-'t'v    f 

m 


(  'I  i    ■ 


'Ji5 


328 


A  Meeting  in  the  Woods. 


the  cartload  into  cider-presses.  The  eating  and 
cooJcing  apples  would  make  any  one's  mouth  water 
to  look  at  them  —  so  large,  so  round,  so  finely  tint- 
ed. As  to  flavor,  there  can  surely  be  nothing 
better.  Families  in  towns  buy  them  by  the  barrel ; 
in  the  country,  even  a  ploughman  thinks  no  more 
of  eating  them  than  if  they  were  only  transformed 
potatoes.  Sweet  cider,  in  its  season,  is  a  very  com- 
mon drink  in  many  parts.  You  meet  it  at  the  rail- 
way-stations, and  on  little  stands  at  the  side  of  the 
street,  and  are  offered  it  in  private  houses.  Canada 
is  indeed  a  great  country  for  many  kinds  of  fruit. 
I  have  already  spoken  of  the  peaches  and  grapes : 
the  plums,  damsons,  melons,  pears,  and  cherries, 
are  equally  good,  and  equally  plentiful.  Poor 
Hodge,  who,  in  England,  lived  on  a  few  shillings  a 
week,  and  only  heard  of  the  fine  things  in  orchards, 
feasts  like  a  lord,  when  he  emigrates,  on  all  their 
choicest  productions. 

They  were  wonderful  people  round  us  for  their 
open-air  meetings  —  very  zealous  and  very  noisy. 
I  was  on  a  visit  at  some  distance  in  the  summer- 
time, and  came  on  a  gathering  in  the  woods. 
There  were  no  ministers  present,  but  some  laymen 
conducted  the  services.  All  round,  were  wagons 
with  the  horses  unyoked,  and  turned  round  to  feed 
from  the  vehicles  themselves,  as  mano-ers.  Some 
of  the  intending  hearers  sat  on  the  prostrate  logs 
that  lay  here  and  there,  others  stood,  and  some  re- 
mained in  their  conveyances.     There  was  no  prep- 


lulinns  a 


Tlie  Ague. 


329 


nration  of  benches,  or  convenience  of  any  kind.  It 
so  happened  that  [  came  only  at  the  close.  The 
proceedings  were  over,  and  there  was  nothing  go- 
ing on,  for  some  time,  but  a  little  conversation 
aniono;  the  leaders.  In  one  wan;on  I  noticed  a 
whole  litter  of  pigs,  and  found,  on  asking  how  they 
came  to  be  there,  that  they  belonged  to  a  good 
woman  wlio  had  no  one  with  whom  to  leave  them 
at  home,  and  had  brought  them  with  her,  that  she 
might  attend  to  their  wants,  and  enjoy  the  meetitigs, 
at  the  same  time.  There  were  often  oj)en-air  as- 
semblies in  the  woods.  Temperance  societies,  with 
bands  of  music,  drew  great  crowds.  Rough  boards 
Avere  provided  for  seats,  and  a  rough  platform  did 
for  the  speeches.  All  the  country  side,  old  and 
young,  went  to  them,  for  most  of  the  pco})le  in  the 
country  districts  are  rigid  teetotallers.  There  are 
poor  drunkards  enough,  after  all,  but  it  is  a  wonder 
there  are  no  more,  when  whiskey  is  only  a  shilling 
or  eighteenpence  a  gallon. 

The  great  plague  of  the  river  was  the  ague,  which 
seized  on  a  very  large  number.  The  poisonous  vri- 
pors  that  rise  from  the  undrained  soil,  in  which  a 
great  depth  of  vegetable  matter  lies  rotting,  must  be 
the  cause,  for  when  a  district  gets  settled,  and  opened 
to  the  sun,  so  that  the  surface  is  dried,  it  disaj)})ears. 
I  never  had  it  myself,  I  am  happy  to  say,  but  all 
my  brothers  suffered  from  its  attacks,  and  poor  Eliza 
shivered  with  it  for  months  together.  It  is  really  a 
di'eadful  disease.     It  begins  with  a  burning  fever, 

28  * 


w. 


830 


Wild  Pars7u'j>8. 


]'  i 


'!  V 


!  .   '    • 


V] 


M  ! 


r  ;  -I 


occasioning  a  thirst  wliicli   cannot  be  satisfied  by 
drinking  any  quantity  of  water,  and  when  this  passes 
oti",  every  bone  shakes,  tlie  teetli  rattle,  the  whole 
frame  quivers,  with  the  most  agonizing  cold.     All 
the  bedclothes  in  the  house  are  found  to  be  insuifi- 
cient  to  keep  the   sufferer   warm.     After  a  day's 
misery  like  this,  the  attack    ceases,  and  does  not 
return  till  the  second  day.     Its  weakening  effects 
are  terrible.     If  severe,  the  patient  can  do  nothing 
even  in  the  interval  of  the  attacks,  and  they  some- 
times continue  for  seven  and  eitrht  months  to<ji;etlier. 
The  only  real  remedy  known  is  quinine,  and  it  is 
taken  in  quantities  that   astonish  a  stranger.     Of 
late  years  there  have  been  far  less  of  the  disease  in 
the  older  districts  than  formerly,  and  it  is  to  be 
hoped  that,  some  day,  it  will  disappear  altogether, 
but  meanwhile  it  is  a  dreadful  evil.     It  used  to  be  a 
conmion  English  disease,  but  it  is  now  nearly  un- 
known in  most  parts  of  our  country.     Oliver  Crom- 
well died  of  it,  and  in  Lincoln  it  was  one  of  the 
most  prevalent  maladies.     I  remember  meeting  an 
old  Englishwoman  who  firmly  believed  ">  the  old 
recipe  for  its  cure,  of  a  spidor     ♦     ped  in  a  glass  of 
wine  and  swallowed  with  #        I'hat  wa?    'le  way, 
she  said,  it  had  been  cured  iii  ii'T  part,  and  nothing 
could  be  better ! 

A  terrible  misfortune  befel  a  worthy  man  residing 
back  from  the  river,  one  spring,  through  his  son  — 
a  growing  boy  —  eating  some  wild  parsnips  in  igno- 
rance of  their  being   poisonous.     The  poor  litth 


Children  in  the  Woods. 


331 


fellow  lingered  for  a  time,  and  at  last  died  in  agony. 
This  must  be  reckoned  amonij;  tlic  "isks  families  run 
in  the  bush.  I  have  known  a  numb(n'  of  cases  of  a 
similar  kind. 

One  day  we  were  startled  by  a  man  crying  to  us 
from  the  road  that  two  children  of  a  settler,  a  few 
miles  back,  were  lost  in  the  woods,  and  that  all  tlw; 
neighbors  were  out,  searching  for  tliem.  We  ust 
no  time  in  hurrying  to  the  place,  and  found  that 
the  iiCvTs  was  only  too  true.  The  two  little  crea- 
tures—a  sister  and  brother  —  had  wandered  into 
the  woods  to  pull  the  early  anemones,  which  come 
out  with  the  wild  leeks,  by  the  sides  of  creeks  and 
wet  places,  at  the  beginning  of  spring,  and  they  had 
gradually  nin  to  one  flower  after  another,  till  they 
were  fairly  lost.  The  excitement  was  terrible. 
Men  and  women  alike  left  every  thing,  to  search 
for  them.  The  forest  was  filled  with  the  sound  of 
their  names,  which  voice  after  voice  called  out,  in 
hopes  of  catching  an  answer.  Night  came,  and  all 
the  searchers  returned  unsuccessful,  but  there  were 
others  who  kindled  lights,  and  spent  the  darkness 
in  their  kind  efforts.     But  it  was  of  no  use.     Two 

—  three  —  four  —  five  — six  days  passed,  and  the 
lost  ones  were  still  in  the  great  silent  woods.  At 
last,  on  the  seventh  day,  they  came  on  them,  but 
almost  too  late.     The  two  were  lying  on  the  ground 

—  the  little  girl  dead,  the  boy  far  gone.  Tender 
nursing,  however,  brought  him  round,  and  he  was 
able  to  tell,  after  a  while,  that  they  had  wandered 


IMr 


if 


i 


fet.!^ 


it 


II  fr 


S   i 


I 


\  I 


m 


l: 


\h 


! 


332 


Xlos^  in  the  Woods. 


hither  and  thither,  as  long  as  they  could,  eating  the 
wild  leeks,  bitter  and  burning  as  they  are,  until  the 
two  could  go  no  further.  He  did  not  know  that 
his  sister  was  dead  till  they  told  him.  It  was  touch- 
ing to  see  his  father  and  mother  swayed  by  the 
opposite  feelings  of  grief  for  the  dead,  and  joy  for 
the  living. 

Another  time,  in  the  winter,  on  a  piercingly  cold 
night,  we  were  roused  from  our  seats  round  the 
fire,  by  the  cries  of  some  one  at  a  distance.  Going 
to  the  door,  we  found  it  was  an  unfortunate  fellow 
who  had  got  bewildered  by  the  snow  covering  the 
wagon  tracks  in  a  path  through  the  bush,  and  who 
was  trying  to  make  himself  heard,  before  the  neigh- 
bors went  to  bed.  It  was  lucky  for  him  we  had 
not  done  so,  for  our  hours  were  very  early  indeed. 
It  was  so  cold  that  we  could  only  stand  a  few  min- 
utes at  the  door  by  turns,  but  we  answered  his 
cries,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  that  he 
was  getting  nearer  and  nearer  the  open.  At  last, 
after  about  half  an  hour,  he  reached  the  high  road, 
and  was  safe.  But  the  fellow  actually  had  not 
politeness  to  come  up  next  day,  or  any  time  after, 
to  say  he  was  obliged  by  our  saving  his  life. 

A  poor  woman,  not  far  from  us,  had  lost  her 
husband  in  the  forest,  many  years  before,  under 
circumstances  of  peculiar  trial.  She  was  then 
newly  married,  and  a  stranger  in  the  country,  and 
he  had  gone  out  to  chop  wood  at  some  distance 
from  their  house,  but  had  been  unable  to  find  his 


Lost  in  the  Woods, 


338 


"m»>>  back.  His  wife  and  neighbors  searched  long 
and  earnestly  for  him,  but  their  utmost  efforts  failed 
to  find  him.  Months  passed  on,  and  not  a  word 
was  heard  of  him,  until,  at  last,  after  more  than  a 
year,  some  persons  came  upon  a  human  skeleton, 
many  miles  from  the  place,  lying  in*  the  woods, 
with  an  axe  at  its  side,  the  clothes  on  which  showed 
that  it  was  the  long-lost  man.  He  had  wandered 
further  and  further  from  his  home,  living  on  what- 
ever he  could  get  in  the  woods,  till  death,  at  last, 
ended  his  sorrows. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  story  of  a  man  who  had 
been  lost  for  many  days,  but  had,  at  last,  luckily 
wandered  near  some  human  habitations,  and  had 
escaped. '  He  was  a  timber-squarer  —  that  is,  he 
squared  the  great  trees  which  were  intended  for 
exportation,  the  squaring  making  them  lie  closely 
together,  and  thus  effecting  a  saving  in  freight,  and 
had  been  employed  on  the  Georgian  Bay,  amongst 
the  huge  pine  forests  from  which  so  many  of  those 
wonderful  masts,  so  much  prized,  are  brought. 
His  cabin  was  at  a  good  distance  from  his  work, 
which  lay  now  at  one  point,  and  now  at  another. 
Fortunately  it  was  fine  mild  autumn  weather,  else 
he  would  have  paid  his  life  for  his  misadventure. 
On  the  morning  of  the  unfortunate  day,  he  had  set 
out  at  a  very  early  hour,  leaving  his  wife  and  fam- 
ily in  the  expectation  that  he  would  return  at  night, 
or  within  a  few  days  at  most.  For  a  great  wonder, 
a  fog  chanced  to  be  lying  on  t] 


% 


^' 


>  k' 


"lli^l.l 


li?i 


I    1 


if! 

M: 

i 


ground,  hiding 


334 


Lost  in  the  Woods. 


!  h**! 


every  thing  at  a  few  yard's  distance,  but  he  took  it 
for  granted  that  he  knew  the  road,  and  never 
thought  of  any  danger.  On,  therefore,  he  walked 
for  some  time,  expecting,  every  moment,  to  come 
on  some  indication  of  his  approach  to  his  place  of 
work.  At  last,  the  fog  rose,  and,  to  his  surprise, 
showed  that  he  had  walked  till  nearly  noon,  and 
was  in  a  spot  totally  unknown  to  him.  Every  tree 
around  seemed  the  counterpart  of  its  neighbor,  the 
flowers  and  fern  were  on  all  sides  the  same  ;  nothing 
offered  any  distinguishing  marks  by  which  to  help 
him  to  decide  where  he  was.  The  path  along 
which  he  had  walked  was  a  simple  trail,  the  mere 
beaten  footsteps  of  wood  men  or  Indians,  passing 
occasionally,  and  to  add  to  his  perplexity,  every 
here  and  there  other  trails  crossed  it,  at  different 
angles,  with  nothing  to  distinguish  the  one  from 
the  other. 

It  was  not  for  some  hours  more,  however,  that 
he  began  to  feel  alarmed.  He  took  it  foi-  granted 
he  had  gone  too  far,  or  had  turned  a  little  to  one 
side,  and  that  he  had  only  to  go  back,  to  come  to 
the  place  he  wished  to  reach.  Back,  accordingly,  he 
forthwith  turned,  resting  only  to  eat  his  dinner  which 
he  had  brought  with  him  from  home.  But,  to  his 
utter  dismay,  he  saw  the  sun  getting  lower  and 
lower,  without  any  sign  of  his  nearing  his  "  limit." 
Gray  shades  began  to  stretch  through  the  trees  : 
the  silence  around  became  more  oppressive  as  they 
increased  ;  the  long  white  moss  on  the  trees,  as  he 


\\,h^ 


it 


Lost  in  the  Woods. 


335 


passed  a  swamp,  looked  the  very  image  of  desola- 
tion ;  and,  at  last,  he  felt  convinced  that  he  was 
lost.  As  evening  closed,  every  living  thing  around 
him  seemed  happy  but  he.  Like  the  castaway  on 
the  ocean,  who  sees  the  sea-birds  skimming  the  hol- 
lows of  the  waves  or  toppling  ever  their  crests,  joy- 
ful, as  if  they  felt  at  home,  he  noticed  the  squirrels 
disappearing  in  their  holes  ;  the  crows  flying  lazily 
to  their  roosts ;  all  the  creatures  of  the  day  betaking 
themselves  to  their  rest.  There  was  no  moon  that 
night,  and  if  there  had  been,  he  was  too  tired  to 
walk  further  by  its  light.  He  could  do  no  more 
than  remain  where  he  was  till  the  morninf;  came 
again.  Sitting  down,  with  his  back  against  a  great 
tree,  he  thought  of  every  thing  by  turns.  Turning 
round,  he  prayed  on  his  bended  knees,  then  sat 
down  again  in  his  awful  loneliness.  Phosphoric 
lights  gleamed  from  the  decayed  trees  on  the 
ground ;  myriads  of  insects  filled  the  air,  and  the 
hooting  of  owls,  and  the  sweep  of  night-hawks  and 
bats,  served  to  fill  his  mind  with  gloomy  fears,  but 
ever  and  anon,  his  mind  reverted  -  to  happier 
thoughts,  and  to  a  growing  feeling  of  confidence 
that  he  should  regain  his  way  on  the  morrow. 

With  the  first  light  he  was  on  his  feet  once  more, 
after  offering  a  prayer  to  his  Maker,  asking  his  help 
in  this  terrible  trial.  He  had  ceased  to  conjecture 
where  he  was,  and  had  lost  even  the  aid  of  a  vague 
track.  Nevertheless,  if  he  could  only  push  on,  he 
thought  he  must  surely  make  his  escape  before  long. 


.1 


v' 
i  if 


ffil 


X:         \ 


■''kii 


-1;^»WT   ,i^W»*.IFJP 


KJfll.M  1,UI    •  1*1   .;LPfW.U.JU«Hf«J|''(ll!-' 


336 


Xos^  m  the  Woods, 


I  I 


The  sun  had  a  great  sweep  to  make,  and  he  was 
young  and  strong.  Faster  and  faster  he  pressed 
forward  as  the  hours  passed,  the  agony  of  his  mind 
driving  liim  on  the  more  hurriedly  as  his  hopes 
grew  fainter.  Fatigue,  anxiety,  and  hunger  were 
meanwhile  growing  more  and  more  unbearable. 
His  nerves  seemed  fairly  unstrung,  and  as  he  threw 
himself  on  the  ground  to  spend  a  second  night  in 
the  wilderness,  the  shadow  of  death  seemed  to  lower 
over  him.  Frantic  at  his  awful  position,  he  tore 
his  hair,  and  beat  his  breast,  and  wept  like  a  child. 
He  might,  he  knew,  be  near  home,  but  he  might, 
on  the  other  hand,  be  far  distant  from  it.  He  had 
walked  fifty  miles  he  was  sure,  and  where  in  this 
interminable  wilderness  had  he  reached  ?  His  onl}^ 
food  through  the  day  had  been  some  wild  fruits 
and  berries,  which  were  veiy  scarce,  and  so  acrid 
that  they  pained  his  gums  as  he  ate  them.  He  had 
passed  no  stream,  but  had  found  water  in  holes  of 
fallen  trees.  What  he  suffered  that  ni^ht  no  one 
can  realize  who  has  not  been  in  some  similar 
extremity.  He  had  no  weapon  but  his  axe,  and 
hence,  even  if  he  came  upon  deer  and  other  crea- 
tures, he  could  not  kill  them  —  there  seemed  no 
way  to  get  out  of  the  horrible  labyrinth  in  which 
he  was  now  shut  up.  From  the  morning  of  the 
third  day  his  mind,  he  assured  me,  became  so 
bewildered  that  he  could  recollect  very  little  of 
what  then  took  place.  How  he  lived  he  could 
hardly  say  —  it  must  have   been   on  frogs,  and 


i 


;iii( 


Lost  in  the  Woods. 


337 


snakes,  and  grass,  and  weeds,  as  well  as  berries,  for 
there  were  too  few  of  this  last  to  keep  hnii  alive. 
Once  he  was  fortunate  enouo;h  to  come  on  a  tor- 
toise,  which  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to 
kill,  though  he  knew  that  if  he  followed  it  quietly 
it  would  guide  him  to  some  stream,  and  thus  afford 
him  the  means  of  escape.  Its  raw  flesh  gave  him 
two  great  meals.  His  clothes  were  iii  tatters,  his 
face  begrimed,  his  hair  and  beard  matted,  his  eyes 
hot  and  bloodshot,  and  his  strength  was  failing  fast. 
On  the  tenth  day  he  thought  he  could  go  no  fur- 
ther, but  must  lie  down  and  die.  But  deliverance 
was  now  at  hand.  As  he  lay,  half  unconscious, 
from  weakness  of  body  and  nervous  exhaustion,  he 
fancied  he  heard  the  drip  of  oars.  In  an  instant 
every  faculty  was  revived.  His  ear  seemed  to 
gather  unnatural  quickness  ;  he  could  have  heard 
the  faintest  sound  at  a  great  distance.  Mustering 
all  his  strength,  he  rose,  and  with  the  utmost  haste 
made  for  the  direction  from  which  the  cheerino; 
sound  proceeded.  Down  some  slopes  —  up  o])po- 
site  banks  —  and  there  at  last  the  broad  water  lay 
before  him.  He  could  not  rest  with  the  mere  vis- 
ion of  hope,  so  on  he  rushed  through  the  thick 
brush,  over  the  fretting  of  fallen  timber  and  the 
brown  carpet  of  leaves,  till  he  reached  the  river- 
bank,  which  was  sloping  at  the  point  where  he 
emerged,  a  tongue  of  land  jutting  out  into  the 
water,  clear  of  trees.  To  the  end  of  this,  with 
anxiety  indcjscribable,  he  rar<,  and  kneeled  in  th.e 

29 


'V 


i     .   :  .  r 


III  iii 


Iii 


338 


Lo»t  in  the  Woods, 


|.n;. 


\'i 


attitude  of  prayer  at  once  to  God  for  his  merciful 
deliverance,  and  to  man,  when  the  boat  should 
come,  whose  approach  he  now  heard  more  clearly 
from  afar,  —  that  he  might  be  taken  to  some  human 
dwelling.  The  boat  did  come  —  his  feeble  cry 
reached  it,  and  in  a  moment,  when  they  saw  his 
thin  arms  waving  for  help  as  he  kneeled  before 
them,  the  bows  were  turned  to  the  shore,  and  he 
was  taken  on  board  —  the  lost  was  found!  He 
fainted  as  soon  as  he  was  rescued,  and  such  was 
his  state  of  exhaustion,  that  at  first  it  seemed  almost 
impossible  to  revive  him.  But  by  the  care  of  his 
wife,  to  whom  he  was  restored  as  soon  as  possible, 
he  gradually  gathered  strength,  and  when  I  saw 
him  some  years  after  was  hearty  and  vigorous. 
The  place  where  he  was  found  was  full  thirty  miles 
fi'om  his  own  house,  and  he  must  have  wandered 
altogether  at  least  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles — 
probably  in  a  series  of  circles  round  nearly  the  same 
points. 


I'M 


''The  Windfall:' 


389 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

A  tornado.  —  Bats.  —  Deserted   lots.  —  American   inquisitirevess.  — 

An  election  agent. 

I  HAVE  already  spoken  of  the  belt  of  trees  nin- 
ning  back  some  miles  from  us,  familiarly  called 
"  The  Windfall,"  from  their  havino-  been  thrown 
down  by  a  hurricane  many  years  before.  Some 
years  after,  when  living  for  a  time  in  another  part 
of  the  province,  I  had  a  vivid  illustration  of  what 
these  terrible  storms  really  are.  It  was  a  fine  day, 
and  I  was  jogging  along  quietly  on  my  horse.  It 
was  in  the  height  of  summer,  and  every  thing 
around  was  in  all  the  glory  of  the  season.  The  tall 
mints,  with  their  bright  flowers,  the  lofty  Aaron's- 
rod,  the  beautiful  Virginia  creeper,  the  wild  convol- 
vulus, and  wild  roses,  covered  the  roadsides,  jind 
ran,  as  far  as  the  light  permitted  them,  into  the 
openings  of  the  forest.  The  country  was  a  long 
roll  of  gentle  undulations,  with  clear  streamlets 
every  here  and  there  in  the  hollows.  The  woods 
themselves  presented  a  perpetual  picture  of  beauty 
as  I  rode  along.  High  above,  rose  the  great  oaks, 
and  elms,  and  beeches,  and  maples,  w  ith  their  tall 


II 


iiiM 


uo 


A  Tornado, 


:fv^ 


■ii 


111 


trunks  free  of  brandies  till  they  stretched  far  over- 
head ;  wliile  round  their  feet,  not  too  thiekly,  hut 
in  such    abundance    as   made    the    scene    perfect, 
^vaved  younoj  trees  of  all  these  kinds,  intermixed 
•with  silver  birclies  and  sumachs.     My  horse  had 
stopped  of  his  own  accord  to  drink  at  one  of  the 
brooks  that  brawled  under  the  rude  brido;es  across 
the  road,  when,  happening  to  look  up,  I  noticed  a 
strange  appearance  in  the  sky,  which  I    had  not 
observed  before.     A  thick  haze  was  descendino;  on 
the  earth,  like  the  darkness  that  precedes  a  storm. 
Yet  there  was  no  other  sign  of  any  approaching 
convulsion  of  nature.     There  was  a  profound  hush 
and  gloom,  but  what  it  might  forbode  did  not  as  yet 
apj)ear.     I  was  not,  however,  left    long    in  igno- 
rance.    Scarcely   had    my    horse    taken    its    last 
draught  and  forded  across  the  brook,  than  a  low 
miu'murino;  sound  in  the  air,  comino;  from  a  dis- 
tance,   and    unlike  any  thing    I    had    ever   heard 
before,  arrested  my  attention.     A  yellow  spot  in 
the  haze  towards  the  south-west  likewise  attracted 
my  notice.     The  next  moment  the  tops  of  the  taller 
trees  began  to  swing  in  tlie  wind,  which  presently 
increased   in   force,    and   the    light    branches    and 
twigs  began  to  break  off.     I  was  glad  I  happened 
to  be  at  an  open  spot,  out  of  reach  of  immediate 
danger,  the  edges  of  the  brook    being  cleared  for 
some  distance  on  both  sides.     Two  minutes  more, 
and  the  storm  burst  on  the  forest  in  all  its  violence. 
Huge  trees  swayed  to  and  fro  under  its  rude  shock 


■"f}ii 


A  Tornado. 


341 


jike  tlie  masts  of  ships  on  a  tempestuous  sea  ;  they 
ruhbed  and  creaked  like  a  sliip's  timbers  when  slie 
rolls,  and    the  sky  grew  darker  and  darker,  as  it' 
obscured  by  a  total  eclipse  oF  the  sun.     It  was  evi- 
dent that  the  fury  of  the  storm  would  not  sweep 
tlu'ourrh  the  open  where  I  stood,  but  would  sj)end 
itself  on  the  woods  before  me.      jNleanwhile,   as  1 
looked,  the  Imge  oaks  and  ma])les  bent  before  the 
tornado,  the  air  was  thick  with  their  huije  limbs, 
twisted  off  in  a  moment,  and  the  trees  themselves 
were  fallino;    in    hundreds    beneath  the  irresistible 
power  of  the  storm.     I   noticed  that  they  always 
fell  with  their  heads  in  the  direction  of  the  hurri- 
cane, as  if  they  had  been  wrenched  round  and  Hung 
Lehind  it  as  it  passed.     Some  went  down  bodily, 
others  broke  across,  all  yielded  and  sank  in   ruin 
and  confusion.     The  air  cot  blacker  and  blacker 
—  a  cloud  of  branches  and  limbs  of  trees  lilled  the 
whole  breadth  of  the  tempest,  some  of  them  flun<:5 
by  it,  every  now  and  then,  high  up  in  the  air,  or 
dashed  with  amazino;  violence  to  the  o;i'ound.     A 
few  minutes  more,  and  it  swept  on  to  make  similar 
havoc  in  other  parts.     But  it  was  long  before  the 
air  Avas  clear  of  tlie  wreck    of  the   forest.     The 
smaller  branchc-  seemed  to  float  in  it  as  if  upheld 
by  some  current  that  was  sucked  on  by  the  hui  ri- 
cane,  though  unfelt  on  the  surface  of  the  ground. 
In  a  surprisingly  short  time  a  belt  of  the  woods, 
about  an  eighth  of  a  mile  in  breadth,  and  rumiing  I 

cannot   tell   how  far   back,  was   one   va^t   chaos, 

29* 


i! 


r. 


-i 


:  ^5 


1  '- 


tr 


342 


A  Tornado, 


througli  wliicli  no  hiimiin  efforts  could  find  a  way. 
The  same  niglit,  as  we  afterwards  learned,  the  tor- 
nado had  struck  points  incredibly  distant,  taking  a 
■  ast  sweep  across  Lake  Ontario,  ravaging^ a  part 
of  New  York,  and  finally  rushing  away  to  the 
north  in  the  neighborhood  of  Quebec. 

The  destruction  it  caused  was  not  limited  to  its 
ravages  in  the  forest ;  farmhouses,  barns,  orchards, 
and  fences,  were  swept  away  like  chaff.  I  passed 
one  orchard  in  which  every  tree  had  been  dragged 
up  and  blown  away  ;  the  fences  for  miles,  in  the 
jjath  of  the  storm,  were  carried  into  the  air  like 
straws,  never  to  be  found  again  ;  tlie  water  in  a 
mill-])ond  by  the  roadside  was  lifted  fairly  out  of  it, 
and  the  bottom  left  bare.  At  one  place  a  barn  and 
stables  had  been  wrenched  into  fragmv^nts,  the  con- 
tents scattered  to  the  winds,  and  the  very  horses 
lifted  into  the  air,  and  carried  some  distance.  Saw- 
mills were  stripped  of  their  whole  stock  of  "  lum- 
ber," every  plank  being  swept  up  into  the  vortex, 
and  strewn  no  one  knew  whither.  There  were 
incidents  as  curious  as  extraordinary  in  the  events 
of  the  day.  A  sheep  was  found  on  one  farm,  unin- 
jured, beneath  a  huge  iron  kettle,  which  had  been 
carried  off  and  capsized  over  the  poor  animal,  as  if 
in  sport.  Wherever  the  storm  passed  through,  the 
forest  was,  from  that  moment,  a  tangled  desolation, 
left  to  itself,  except  by  the  beasts  that  might  choose 
a  safe  covert  in  its  recesses.  Thenceforth,  the 
briars  and  bushes  would  have  it  for  their  own,  and 


iff 


Bats* 


343 


grow  undisturbed.  No  human  footstep  would  ever 
turn  towards  it  till  all  the  standing  forest  around 
had  been  cut  down. 

The  bats  were  very  plentiful  in  summer,  and 
used  often  to  flv  into  the  house,  to  the  great  terror 
of  my  sister  Margaret,  who  used  to  be  as  afraid  of 
a  bat  as  Buftbn  was  of  a  squirrel.  They  were  no 
larojer  than  our  EnMish  bats,  and  undistinijuisha- 
ble  from  them  to  an  ordinary  eye.  Almost  as 
often  as  we  went  out  on  the  fine  wami  evenings, 
we  were  attracted  by  their  flying  hither  and  thither 
below  the  branches  of  the  trees,  or  out  in  the  open 
ground,  beating  the  air  with  great  rapidity  with 
their  wonderful  membranous  wings.  A  bird  pecu- 
liar to  America  used  to  divide  attention  with  them 
in  the  twilight  —  the  famous  "whip-poor-will," 
one  of  the  family  of  the  goatsuckers  ;  of  which,  in 
England,  the  night-jar  is  a  well-known  example. 
It  is  amazing  how  distinctly  the  curious  sounds, 
from  which  it  takes  its  name,  are  given  ;  they  are 
repeated  incessantly,  and  create  no  little  amuse- 
ment when  they  come  from  a  number  of  birds  at 
once.  The  flight  of  the  whip-poor-will  is  very 
rapid,  and  they  double,  and  twist,  and  turn  in  a 
surprising  way.  Their  food  is  tlie  large  moths  and 
insects,  any  of  which,  I  should  think,  they  could 
swallow,  for  it  is  true  in  their  case  at  least,  that 
their  "mouth  is  from  ear  to  ear.'*  The  ga})e  is 
enormous,  reaching  even  behind  the  eye ;  and  woe 
betide  any  unfortunate  moths  or  chaffers  that  may 


» 


%    : 


n 

Ili 

!;■     .     \i 

■        11 

■       .1^\ 

;'(■  ?t''^ 

-■I: 

■k 

'  i;..! 


844 


Deserted  Lots. 


'I  ., 


cross  tlieir  patli.  It  sees  perft-'ctly  by  ni<i;lit,  but  is 
])urbliiid  by  day,  its  hu;^e  eyes  .showing,  the  mo- 
ment you  see  it,  that,  like  that  of  tlie  owls,  it  is  for 
service  in  i«u'tial  darkness.  Tlie  Ht^iit  completely 
confuses  it,  so  tliat,  until  sunset,  it  is  never  seen, 
unless  wlien  one  comes  by  accident  upon  its  resting- 
place,  where  it  sits  sleeping  on  some  log  or  low 
branch,  from  which  it  will  only  Hy  a  very  short  dis- 
tance if  disturbed,  alighting  again  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble, and  dozing  ott'  forthwith.  They  used  to  come 
in  June,  and  enliven  the  evenings  till  September, 
Avhen  they  left  us  again  for  the  south.  Some  peo- 
ple used  to  think  it  fine  sport  to  shoot  birds  so  swift 
of  flight;  but,  somehow,  I  could  never  bring  my- 
self to  touch  creatures  that  spoke  my  own  lan- 
guage, however  ini|)erfectly. 

Immediately  behind  our  lot  was  one  which  often 
struck  me  as  very  desolate-lookino;  when  I  had  to 
go  to  it  to  bring  home  the  cows  at  night.  A  field 
had  been  cleared,  and  a  house  built,  but  both  field 
and  house  were  deserted  :  long  swamp  grass  grew 
thick  in  the  hollows  ;  nettles,  and  roses,  and  bushes 
of  all  kinds,  climbed  up,  outside  and  in  ;  the  roof 
was  gone,  and  only  the  four  walls  were  left.  I 
never  learned  more  than  the  name  of  the  pc'son  who 
had  expended  so  much  labor  on  the  place,  and  then 
abandoned  it.  But  there  were  other  sjjots  just  like 
it  all  over  the  bush  ;  spots  where  settlers  had  begun 
with  high  hopes  ;  had  worked  hard  for  a  time, 
until  they  lost  heart,  or  had  been  stopped  by  some 


American  Inqumtivencss. 


345 


Insurmonntablo  obstacle,  and  Imd  deserted  tlio 
home  they  liad  once  been  so  proud  of.  One  case  I 
knew  was  caused  by  a  touchint;  incident  of  busli- 
life.  A  yonncr,  liearty  man,  ha('  f^one  out  in  tlio 
mornin<i;  to  cliop  at  liis  clearing,  but  had  not  re- 
turned at  dinner,  and  was  found  by  his  wife,  when 
she  went  to  look  for  him,  lying  on  his  back,  dead, 
with  a  tree  he  had  felled  resting  on  his  breast.  It 
had  slipped  back,  perhaps,  off  the  stunij)  in  tiiliing, 
and  had  crushed  him  beneath  it.  \Tiiat  agony 
such  an  accident  in  such  circumstances  nnist  have 
caused  the  sufferer  I  The  poor  fellow's  wife  could 
io  nothino;  even  towards  extricatiuii;  her  husband's 
i)ody,  but  had  to  leave  it  there  till  the  neighbors 
vame,  and  chopped  the  tree  in  two,  so  that  it  could 
1)6  got  away.  No  wonder  she  "  sold  out,"  and  left 
ihe  scene  of  so  great  a  calamity. 

Every  one  has  heard  of  the  inquisitiveness  of 
Ibotli  Sc>'>ichmen  and  Americans.  I  allude  more 
particularly  to  those  of  the  humbler  rank.  I  have 
often  laughed  at  the  examples  we  met  within  our 
intercourse,  not  only  with  these  races,  but  with  the 
less  polished  of  others,  also,  in  Canada.  I  was 
going  do^Mi  to  Detroit  on  the  little  steamer  Avhich 
ased  to  luii  l>v:tween  the  town  and  Lake  Huron  — 
a  steamer  so  Miiall  that  it  was  currently  reported 
among  the  boys.  Chat  one  very  stout  lady  in  the 
tosfriSL'o  had  m.'^u'e  it  lurch  wdien  she  went  on 
boaid  •  and  had  ^-Ow  on  the  u])pcr  deck  to  look 
round.      The  little*  A.nei'ican  village  on  the  o})po- 


r'Xf, 


rf46 


American  Inquisitiveness. 


k    i  • 


■5 ' 


!    '■  i 


site  side  was  "  called  at,"  and  left,  in  a  very  few 
minutes,  and  we  were  off  again  past  the  low  shores 
of  the  river.  A  little  i)un;-nosed  man,  in  a  white 
hat  and  white  linen  jacket,  was  the  only  one  up 
beside  me  ;  and  it  was  not  in  his  nature,  evidently, 
tliat  Ave  should  be  lono;  without  talkino;.  "  Fine 
captain-on  this  here  boat  ? "  said  he.  I  agreed 
with  him  off  hand  ;  that  is,  I  took  it  for  granted  he 
was  so.  "  Yes,  he's  the  likeliest  captain  I've  seen 
since  1  left  Ohio.  How  plain  you  see  whar  the 
boat  run  —  look!  AVell,  we're  leaving  County- 
seat  right  straight,  I  guess.  Whar  you  born?" 
"Where  do  you  think?"  I  answered.  "Either 
Ireland  or  Scotland,  anvhow."  "  No.  You^re 
Irish,  at  any  rate,  I  su})pose  ? "  —  I  struck  in. 
''No,  sir  —  no,  sirree  —  I'm  Yankee  born,  and 
bred  in  Yankee  town,  and  my  parents  afore  me. 
you  travelling  altogether  ?  "  I  asked  him  what 
he  meant,  for  I  really  didn't  understand  this  ques- 
tion. "Why,  travelling  for  a  living  —  what  do 
you  sell  ?  "  On  my  telling  him  he  was  wrong  for 
once,  he  seemed  a  little  confounded  ;  but  presently 
recovered,  and  drew  a  bottle  out  of  his  breast- 
pocket, adding,  as  he  did  so  — "  Will  you  take 
some  bitters  ?  "  I  thanked  him,  and  said,  I  was 
"temperance."  "You  don't  drink  none,  then? 
Well,  I  do ;  "  on  which  he  suited  the  action  to 
the  svord,  putting  the  bottle  back  in  its  place 
again,  after  duly  wiping  his  lips  on  his  .ufl*.  But 
liis   questions  w  ere   not   done   yet.     "  ^^'  liar   you 


I 


H 


An  Election  Agent. 


347 


live  ?  "  I  told  him.  "  Married  man  ?  "  I  said  I 
had  not  the  happiness  of  heing  so.  "  How  long 
since  you  came  from  England  ?  "  —  I  answered. 
"  You  remember  when  you  came  ?  "  I  said  I 
hoped  I  did,  else  my  faculty  must  be  failing.  "  I 
guess  you  were  pretty  long  on  the  waters  ?  "  But 
I  was  getting  tir(  d  of  his  impudence,  and  so  gave 
him  a  laconic  answer,  and  dived  into  the  cabin  out 
of  his  way. 

I  was  very  much  amused  at  a  rencontre  between 
the  "  captain,"  who  seemed  a  really  respectable 
man,  and  another  of  the  passengers,  who,  it  aj)])ear- 
ed,  had  come  on  board  without  having  money  to  pay 
his  fare.  The  offender  was  dressed  in  an  unbleach- 
ed linen  blouse,  with  "  dandy  "  trowsers,  wide  across 
the  body,  and  tapering  to  the  feet,  with  worn  straps 
of  the  same  material ;  old  boots  of  a  fashionable  make, 
an  open  waistcoat,  and  an  immensity  of  dirty-white 
shirt-breast ;  a  straw  hat,  with  a  long  green  and 
li^ac  ribbon  round  it.  A  cigar  in  his  mouth,  a  mock 
ring  on  his  finger,  and  a  very  bloodshot  eye,  com- 
pleted the  picture.  It  seemed  he  was  a  subordinate 
electioneering  agent,  sent  round  to  make  stump 
speeches  for  his  party,  and,  generally,  to  influence 
votes  ;  and  the  trouble  with  the  captain  evidently 
rose  from  his  wishino;  to  have  his  fare  charixed  to 
the  committee  who  sent  him  out,  rather  than 
pay  it  himself.  The  captain  certainly  gave  him 
no  quarter.  "  He's  a  low,  drunken  watchmaker," 
bald  he,  turning  to  me ;  "  I  saw    him   last    night 


ill 

iff 

w 

||lFT' 

:  n 

I 'S 

i     1 

!l 

J     1 
i  ■    ■ 

i   i 

'■■I    ! 

.1          , 

< ;  In 

■   l--l^ 

! '  V  I  ■<  U     : 

P   i\: 

■:■    ■        C 

i 

i 

i       ■I.     ■ 

I : 

<  ■ 

H 

,'     ' 

■l' 

'  .* 

■A  I 


j 


n 


348 


An  Election  Ar/cnt. 


Fpoiitinir  away  for  Gunonil  Cass  on  tlio  steps  of 
tlie  clmivli  at  Huron.  The  fellow  wants  to  .>et 
ott  without  payintr  —  1  suppose  we'll  have  to  let 
him."     And  he  did.     lie  got  through  to  tlieji 


»>ui- 


W'Y  s  enc 


ill 


A  Journey  to  Niagara. 


349 


CHAPTER    XXII. 


A-  j'Uirnoy  to  Niiipara.  —  'River  St.  Clair.  —  Detroit.  —  A  plavc's 
o.scape.  —  An  Aiiicricaii  .SUamcr.  —  Ucscriplioii  of  the  I'all.s  of 
Niagara.  —  l-'cartul  catastrophe. 

^piIR  country  on  the  St.  Clair,  tlioiirrli  Leautiful 
J  from  tlie  jn'oscnce  of  tlie  river,  was,  in  itself, 
flat  and  tame  enouoli.  AH  Canada  West,  indeed, 
is  remaikal)lv  level.  The  ridire  of  limestone  hills 
Avhieh  runs  aeross  from  the  State  of  New  York  at 
Niaii;ara,  and  stretches  to  the  north,  is  the  only 
elevation  greater  than  the  round  swells,  which,  in 
some  parts,  make  the  landsca])e  look  like  a  succes- 
sion of  hi'oad  hiack  waves.  The  borders  of  the  St. 
Clair  itself  were  hiixher  than  the  land  immediateiy 
behind  them,  so  that  a  belt  of  swamp  ran  ])arallel 
with  the  stream,  rich  reaches  of  black  soil  risin<^ 
behind  it  throni»;li  township  after  township.  The 
list  of  natural  siohts  in  such  a  part  was  not  great, 
tliouij-h  the  charms  of  the  few  there  were,  were  un- 
fadino-.  There  was  the  river  itself,  and  there  was 
the  vast  leafy  ocean  of  ti'ee-tops,  with  the  great 
aisles  with  inniunerable  j)illai"s  stretching  away  un 
derneath  like  some  vast  cathedral  of  nature  ;  but 

these  were  conmion  to  all  the  country.     The  one 

30 


o60 


Detroit. 


I    i 


I 


/i   '! 


M%\ 


Si 


n  f 


rnvw 


wonder  of  the  land  was  at  a  distance.  It  was  Niagara. 
How  we  longed  to  see  it!  But  it  was  some  years 
before  an^''  of  us  could,  and  there  was  no  opportunity 
of  going  together.  1  had  to  set  out  by  myself.  It 
was  in  the  month  of  September,  just  before  the 
leaves  began  to  turn.  The  weather  was  glorious  — 
not  too  warm,  and  as  briixht  as  in  Italy.  I  started 
in  the  little  steamer  for  Detroit,  ])assing  the  Indian 
settlement  at  Walpole  Island,  the  broad  flats  cov- 
ered with  coarse  grass,  toward  the  entrance  of 
Lake  St.  Clair,  and  at  last,  threading  the  lake  itself, 
through  the  channel  marked  out  across  its  shallow 
and  muddy  breadth,  by  long  lines  of  poles,  like 
telegrajjhs  on  each  side  of  a  street.  Detroit  was 
the  London  of  al'  the  folks  on  the  river.  They 
bought  every  thing  they  wanted  there,  it  being  easy 
of  access,  and  its  size  offerino;  a  larijer  choice  than 
could  be  obtained  elsewhere.  It  is  a  o;i't?at  and 
growing  }dace ;  though,  in  the  lifetime  of  a  person 
still  living  —  General  Cass  —  it  was  only  the  little 
French  villat2;e  which  it  had  been  for  a  hundred 
years  before.  Taking  the  steamer  to  Buffalo, 
W'hich  started  in  an  hour  or  two  after  I  cot  to 
Detroit,  I  was  once  more  on  my  way  as  the  after- 
noon was  drawincT  to  a  close.  We  were  to  call  at 
various  British  ports,  so  that  I  1  ad  a  chance  of 
feeing  different  j)arts  of  the  province  that  I  had  not 
ret  visited.  The  first  step  in  our  voyage  was  to 
cross  to  Sandwich,  the  village  on  the  Canadian 
shore,  opposite  Detroit,  from  which  it  is  less  than  a 


A  Slaveys  Eacape. 


851 


agara. 

years 

tujiity 

If.    it 

re  the 
ous  — 
started 
Indian 
:s  cov- 
nce    of 
c  itself, 
diallow 
.^s,  like 
:)it  was 
They 
lio;  easy 
than 
t   and 
person 
e  little 
indred 
ufi'alo, 
o-Qt  to 
after- 
all  at 
Ince  of 
d  not 
,'as  to 
iiadian 
han  a 


mile  distant.     I  was  glad  to  see  a  spot  so  sacred  to 
liberty —  for  Sandwich  is  the  great  point  which  the 
fugitive  slaves,  from  every  part  of  the  Union,  eager- 
ly attempt  to  reach.     I  felt  proud  of  my  country 
at   the  thought  that  it   was  no  vain  boast,  but  a 
glorious    truth,  that    slaves    could    not   breathe  in 
Enij-land.  nor  on  British  soil ;  that  the  first  touch 
of  it  by  th(i  foot  of  the  bondsman  broke  his  fetters 
and  made  him  free  forever.     I  was  so  full  of  the 
thought,  that    when    we  were    once    more    under 
weigh  it  naturally  became  the  subject  of  conversa- 
tion with  an  intelligent  fellow-traveller,  who  had 
come  on  board  at  Sandwich.     "  1  was  standing  at 
my  door,"  said  he,  "  a  week  or  two  ago,  when  I 
saw  a  skiff*  with  a  man  in  it,  rowing,  in  hot  haste, 
to  our  side.     How  the  oars  flashed  —  how  his  back 
bent  to  them  —  how  he  pulled  !     It  w^as  soon  evi- 
dent what  was  his  object.     As  he  came  near,  I  saw 
he  was  a  negro.     Though  no  one  was  pursuing,  he 
could  not  take  it  easy,  and,  at  last,  with  a  great 
bend,  he  swept  up  to  the  bank,  pulled  up  the  skiif, 
and  ran  up  to  the  road,  lea])ing,  throwing  up  his  hat 
in  the  air,  shouting,  singing,  laughing  —  in  short, 
fairly  beside  himself  with  excitement.     '  I'm  free  ! 
I'm  free  !  —  no  more  slave  ! '  was  the  burden  of  his 
loud   rejoicing,  and  it  was  long  before  he  calmed 
down  enouo;h  for  any  one  to  ask  him  his  stoiT.     He 
had    come    all    the  way  up    the    Mississippi    from 
Arkansas,  travelling  by  night,  lying  in  the  woods 
by  day,  living  on  corn  pulled  from  the  fields,  or  on 


Hi 


H 


t.<i 


liiii 


i! 


ii 


f 

t 
i 

h 


«     If; 


: 


li:]li 


H 


1 


ii|^;ifi 


r  * 


?f2 


-4.  Slave's  Escape. 


poultry  lie  could  catcli  round  fiirm-houses  or  negro 
quurters  ;,sometiines  eating  them  raw,  lest  the  smoke 
of  his  fire  should  discover  him.  At  last  Le  reached 
Illinois,  a  free  State,  after  long  weeks  of  travel ;  hut 
here  his  worst  troubles  began.  '^ oi  being  able  to 
give  a  very  clear  account  of  himself,  they  put  him 
in  jail  as  a  '  fugitive.'  But  he  gave  a  wrong  name 
instead  of  his  own,  and  a  wrong  State  instead  of 
that  from  which  he  had  come.  He  told  them,  in 
fact,  he  had  come  from  iMarvland,  which  was  at  the 
very  opposite  side  of  the  Union  from  Arkansas,  and 
was  kept  in  jail  for  a  whole  year,  while  they  were 
advertising  him,  to  try  to  get  some  owner  to  claim 
him,  and  they  let  him  off  only  when  none  appeared 
in  the  whole  twelvemonths.  This  ordeal  passed,  he 
gradually  made  his  way  to  Detroit,  and  now,  after 
runninn;  such  a  terrible  fjauntlet,  he  had  risen  from 
a  mere  chattel  to  be  a  man  !  "  Seeing  tlie  interest 
I  took  in  the  incident,  he  went  on  to  tell  me  others 
equally  exciting.  One  which  I  remember,  was  the 
rescue  of  a  slave  from  some  officers  who  had  discov- 
ered him  in  one  of  the  frontier  towns  of  the  States, 
and  w^ere  taking  him,  bound  like  a  sheep,  to  Buffalo, 
to  car»'y  him  off  to  his  master  in  the  South.  Indii:- 
nant  at  such  treatment  of  a  fellow-mnn,  a  young 
Englishman,  who  has  since  ]>een  a  ■naember  of  the 
C-tnadian  Parliament,  and  was  then  on  the  boat 
with  him,  d«'terni;:ned,  iif  possible,  to  cheat  the  men- 
steah-rs  of  iif^ir  p^^^  Bn'aking  his  design  to  the 
colore*i  cook,  and  tiirouoh  him  netting  the  secret 


An  American  Steamer. 


353 


aid  of  all  tlie  other  colored  men  on  the  hoat,  lie 
waited  till  thev  reached  Buffalo,  some  of  the  con- 
federates  having  previously  told  the  poor  slaves  tlu; 
schenae  that  was  afoot.  As  the  boat  i^ot  alonnside 
the  wi)arf,  seizing  a  moment  when  his  ouards  had 
left  him,  the  gallant  young  fellow  elfectnally  severed 
the  rope  that  bound  the  slave,  and,  telling  him  to 
follow  him  instantly,  dashed  over  the  gangway  to 
the  wharf,  and  leaped  into  a  skitf  which  was  lying 
at  hand,  with  oars  in  it  readv,  the  neirro  following 
at  his  heels  in  a  moment ;  then,  pushing  otf,  he 
struck  out  into  the  lake,  and  reached  Canada  safelv 
with  his  livino;  triumoh.  The  story  made  a  thrill 
run  throuo;h  me.  It  was  a  brave  deed  darinirlv 
done.  The  risk  was  great,  but  the  object  was  noble, 
and  he  nuist  have  had  a  fine  spirit  who  braved  the 
one  to  accomplish  the  other. 

Tlie  steamer  itself  was  very  different  from  those 
with  which  I  had  been  familiar  in  Eniiland.  In- 
stead  of  cabins  entirely  below  the  deck,  the  body 
of  the  shi[)  was  reserved  for  a  dining-room,  sur- 
rounded by  berths,  and  one  portion  of  it  covered  in 
for  cargo  ;  the  ladies'  cabin  was  raised  on  the  back 
part  of  the  main  deck,  with  a  walk  all  round  it ; 
then  came  an  open  space  with  sofas,  which  was  like 
a  hail  or  lobby  for  receiving  ])assengers  or  letting 
them  out.  Next  to  this,  at  the  sides,  was  a  long 
set  of  offices,  facing  the  engine-room  in  the  centre, 
and  reaching  beyond  the  paddle-boxes,  l>oth  the 
side  and  central  structures  beino;  continued  for  some 

30* 


\t 


l,'«i 


.t#) 


8,5-4 


An  American  Steamer. 


ill: 


Ihi' 


distance,  to  make  places  for  tlio  cook's  galley,  for 
a  bur  for  selling  spirits  and  cigars,  for  a  barber's 
sliop,  and  for  I  know  not  what  other  conveniences. 
Covering  in  all  these,  an  npper  deck  stretched  the 
whole  length  of  tlie  ship,  and  on  this  rose  the  great 
cabin,  a  long  room,  })rovided  with  sofas,  mirrors, 
carpets,  a  piano,  and  every  detail  of  a  huge  draw- 
ing-room, —  innumerabh?  doors  at  each  side  open- 
ing into  sleeping  places  for  the  gentlemen  tnivellers. 
It  was  a  fine  sight,  with  its  profusion  of  gilding  and 
white  paint  on  the  walls  and  ceiling,  its  })aintings 
on  panels  at  regular  intervals  all  round,  its  showy 
furniture,  and  its  company  of  both  sexes.  You 
could  get  on  the  top  even  of  this  cabin,  if  you  liked, 
or,  if  you  thought  you  were  high  enough,  might  go 
out  on  the  open  space  at  each  end,  where  seats  in 
abundance  awaited  occupants.  The  whole'  struc- 
ture, seen  from  the  wharf  when  it  stopped  at  any 
place,  was  more  like  a  floating  house  than  a  ship, 
and  seemed  very  strange  to  me  at  first,  with  its  two 
stories  above  the  deck,  and  its  innumerable  doors 
and  windows,  and  its  dazzling  white  color  from  stem 
to  stern.  Such  vessels  may  do  well  enouoh  for 
calm  weather  or  for  rivers,  but  they  are  far  from 
safe  in  a  storm  at  any  distance  from  land.  The 
wind  catches  them  so  fiercely  on  their  m-eat  hiiili 
works  that  they  are  like  to  capsize,  when  a  low-built 
ship  would  be  in  no  danger.  Indeed,  we  had  a 
proof  of  this  on  coming  out  of  Buffalo  to  cross  to 
Chippewa ;  for  as  the  wind  had  blown  during  the 


An  American  Steamer, 


355 


ley,  for 
larber's 
liences. 
led  the 
e  great 
iiirrors, 
3  draw- 
e  o[)en- 
ivellers. 
iiiii:  and 
iiiiitiiiiis 
>  sho^vy 
;.     You 
•II  liked, 
iio;lit  <n} 
seats  in 
y  struc- 
at  any 
a  ship, 
its  two 
iG  doors 
m  stem 
o-li   for 
r  from 
Tlie 


Iross  to 


night  while  we  were  ashore,  we  found,  when  we 
started  attain  next  mornino',  that  the  shallow  water 
of  that  part  of  the  lake  was  pretty  rough,  and  our 
way  leading  us  almost  into  the  trough  of  the 
waves,  the  boat  swayed  so  much  to  each  side 
alternately,  that  the  captain  got  all  the  passengers 
aathered  in  a  bodv,  and  made  them  run  from  the 
low  to  the  high  side  by  turns,  to  keep  it  from 
swamping.  The  water  was  actually  coming  in  on 
the  main  deck  at  every  roll.  It  was  very  disagree- 
able to  have  such  a  tumbling  about,  but  this  ugly 
state  of  thinjj-s  did  not  last  lono;.  The  smooth 
water  of  the  Niaoara  was  soon  reached,  and  we 
were  o;lidino;  down  to  within  about  three  miles  or 
so  of  the  Falls,  as  quietly  and  carelessly  as  if  no 
such  awful  gidf  were  so  near.  I  could  not  help 
thinking  how  terrible  it  would  have  been  had  any 
accident  injured  our  machinery  in  such  a  position. 
There  certainly  were  no  sails  on  the  boat,  and  I 
greatly  question  if  there  was  an  anchor,  the  short 
distance  of  her  trips  making  one  generally  unnec- 
essary. At  last  we  got  safely  into  Chippewa 
Creek,  and  all  chance  of  danger  had  passed  away. 

Long  before  reaching  this  haven  of  refuge,  a 
white  mist,  steadily  rising,  and  disa])pearing  high 
in  the  air,  had  marked  with  uinnistakable  certaintA'' 
our  near  approach  to  the  grand  spectacle  I  had 
come  to  see.  Never  for  a  moment  still,  it  had 
risen  and  sunk,  grown  broader  and  lighter,  melted 
into  one  great  cloud,  or  broken  into  waves  of  white 


\ 


,F  ■   \:\ 


\ 


^bQ 


The  Falls  of  Niagara. 


'A 


|i    \ 


vapor,  from  tlie  time  I  had  first  seen  it,  and  liatl 
nmde  me  restless  till  I  was  safely  on  shore.  'J'Ik' 
sensation  was  j)aintul  —  a  kind  of  instinet  of  dan- 
ger, and  an  uneasiness  till  it  was  past,  llaviiiij: 
nothing  to  detain  me,  I  determined  to  lose  no 
time  in  getting  to  the  Falls  themselves  ;  and  there- 
fore, leaving  my  portmanteau  to  he  sent  on  after 
me,  I  set  out  for  them  on  foot.  There  is  a  heauti- 
ful  hroad  road  to  the  spot,  and  it  was  in  excellent 
order,  as  the  fall  rains  had  not  yet  commenced,  so 
that  I  jogged  on  merrily,  and  was  soon  at  my  jour- 
ney's end  at  Drummondville,  the  village  near  the 
Falls,  on  the  Canadian  side,  where  I  resolved  to 
stay  for  some  days.  One  of  the  finest  views  of  the 
great  wonder  burst  upon  my  sight  during  this  walk. 
On  a  sudden,  at  a  turn  of  the  road,  an  opening  in 
the  trees  showed  me  the  Falls  from  behind,  in  the 
very  bend  downwards  to  the  gulf  beneath.  Tlie 
awful  fflidino;  of  the  vast  mass  of  waters  into  an 
abyss  which,  from  that  position,  only  showed  its 
presence  without  revealing  its  depth,  filled  me  with 
indescribable  awe.  Over  the  edge,  whither,  I  as 
yet  knew  not,  were  descending,  in  unbroken  vol- 
ume, millions  of  tons  of  water.  Above,  rose  the 
ever-changing  clouds  of  va])or,  like  the  smoke  from 
a  vast  altar,  and  behind,  looking  up  the  river,  were 
the  struggling  waves  of  the  rajiids,  covering  the 
whole  breadth  of  the  stream  with  bars  of  restless 
white.  After  seeing  Niagara  from  every  other  point 
of  view,  I  think  this  is  one  of  the  finest.     The  leap 


m 


The  Falls  of  Niaijara. 


357 


and  Imd 
i*e.     Tlio 
t  of  diiii- 
Iliiviiiii; 
lose    no 
nd  tluTc- 
on  iit'tcr 
ii  l)C':uiti- 
excellont 
enced,  so 
my  jour- 
near  \\w. 
isolved  to 
iws  of  the 
tliis  walk. 
)enin<j;  in 
id,  in  the 
th.      The 
into  an 
owed    its 
me  with 
[ler,  I  as 
)ken  vol- 
rose  the 
loke  from 
er,  were 
irino;    the 
restless 
^ler  point 
'he  leap 


into  the  liidden  de])ths  has  in  it  something  awfu 
beyond  any  power  of  description. 

You  may  be  snre  I  did  full  justice  to  the  oppor- 
tunities my  visit  afforded  me,  and  ke])t  afoot,  day 
after  day,  with  praiseworthy  dilio;enee.  ^ly  first 
walk  to  the  Falls,  from  the  village,  brouoht  me, 
through  a  break  in  a  sandy  bank,  to  a  spot  from 
which  nothino;  could  be  seen  at  the  bottom  of  a 
ti;or(!;e  but  the  white  foam  of  the  American  Fall. 
The  trees  filled  each  side  of  the  descent,  archino; 
overhead,  and  made  the  vista  even  more  beautiful 
than  the  wild  outline  of  the  bank  itself  would  have 
been  ;  the  water,  like  sparkling  snow,  drifting  in 
loni!"  t()n<2;ues  down  the  face  of  the  liidden  rocks, 
filling  up  the  whole  view  beyond.  It  depended  on 
the  position  of  the  sun  whether  tlie  ])icture  were 
one  of  dazzlino;  white  or  more  or  less  dulled  ;  but 
at  all  times  the  falling  water,  broken  into  sj)ray,  and 
l)artially  blown  back  as  it  descended,  by  the  force 
of  the  air,  was  one  of  surpassing  beauty.  The 
American  Fall,  though  nine  hundred  feet  wide,  has 
only  a  small  part  of  the  current  passing  over  it,  and 
it  is  this  shallowness  that  iiakes  it  break  into  foam 
at  the  moment  of  its  descent.  Emerc-ino;  on  the 
road  at  tlie  edge  of  the  river,  the  great  Horse-shoe 
was  at  once  before  me  on  my  right  hand.  No 
wonder  the  Indians  called  it  "  Ni-wa-gay-rah  "  — 
the  "  Thunder  of  Waters."  A  mass  of  a  hundred 
millions  of  tons  of  water,  falling  a  de])th  of  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  in  the  course  of  a  single  hour, 


il 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  \4S80 

(716)  872-4503 


•^ 


358 


The  Falls  of  Niagara. 


hi 


'  ■  >l 


\  '■  \ 


■  It. 


while  you  stand  by,  may  well  give  such  a  sound  as 
overwhelms  the  listener's  sense  of  hearing.  It  is 
no  use  attempting  to  picture  the  scene.  It  was 
some  time  before  I  could  go  near  the  edge,  but  at 
last,  when  my  head  was  less  dizzy,  I  went  out  on  tliu 
projecting  point  called  the  Table  Rock,  which  has, 
however,  long  since  fallen  into  the  abyss,  and  there, 
on  a  mere  ledge,  from  which  all  beneath  had  been 
eaten  away  by  the  spray,  I  could  let  the  spectacle 
gradually  fill  my  mind.  You  cannot  see  Ni.ig- 
ara  at  once  ;  it  takes  day  after  day  to  realize  its 
vastness.  I  was  astonished  at  the  slow  unbroken 
fall  of  the  water.  So  vast  is  the  quantity  hanging 
in  the  air  at  any  one  moment,  that  it  moves  down 
in  a  great  green  sheet,  with  a  slow,  awful  descent. 
The  patches  of  white  formed  in  spots  here  and 
there  showed  how  majestically  it  goes  down  to  the 
abyss.  Think  of  such  a  launching  of  a  great  river, 
two  thousand  feet  in  breadth,  over  a  sudden  preci- 
pice —  the  smooth  flow  above  —  the  green  crest 
—  the  massy  solidity  of  the  descent  —  and  then  the 
impenetrable  clouds  of  watery  sj)ray  that  hide  the 
bottom.  Yet  at  the  edge  it  was  so  shallow  that 
one  might  have  waded  some  steps  into  it  without 
apparent  danger.  Indeed,  I  noticed  men  one  day 
damming  it  back  some  feet,  in  a  vain  attempt  to 
get  out  the  body  of  a  poor  man  who  had  leaped 
over.  They  hoped  it  would  be  found  jammed 
among  the  rocks  at  the  bottom,  within  reach,  if 
this  side  water  were  forced  back.     But  if  it  ever 


Tlie  Falls  of  Niagara. 


359 


liad  been,  it  was  since  washed  away,  and  no  efforts 
could  recover  it.  Descending  a  spiral  staircase 
close  to  tlie  Table  Rock,  I  had  another  view  from 
below  ;  and  what  words  can  convey  the  impression 
of  the  deej),  trembling  boom  of  the  waters,  as  you 
caught  it  thus  confined  in  the  abyss  ?  It  was  ter- 
rible to  look  into  the  cauldron,  smoking,  heaving, 
foaming,  rushing,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see* 
through  the  mist.  A  slope  of  fragments  from 
the  side  of  the  rock  offered  a  sli|)pery  path  up  to 
the  thick  curtain  of  the  Falls,  and  you  could  even 
go  behind  it  if  you  chose.  But  I  had  not  nerve 
enough  to  do  so,  though  several  parties  ventured  in, 
after  having  put  on  oilskin  clothes ;  guides,  who 
live  in  part  by  the  occu})ation,  leading  them  on 
their  way.  Overhead,  Table  Rock  reached  far  out, 
awaiting  its  fall,  which  I  felt  sure  could  not  be  lonjr 
delayed.  In  crossing  it  I  noticed  a  broad  crack, 
which  each  successive  year  would,  of  course,  deepen. 
On  every  ledge,  up  to  the  top  of  the  precipice,  grass 
and  flowers,  nourished  by  the  incessant  spray, 
relieved  the  bareness,  and  in  the  middle  of  the 
river,  dividing  the  Horse-shoe  Fall  from  the  Amer- 
ican, the  trees  on  Goat  Island  dimly  showed  them- 
selves through  the  ascendin<j  smoke.  The  vast 
sweep  of  waters  bending  round  the  Horse-shoe  for 
more  than  the  third  of  a  mile,  was  hemmed  in  at 
the  further  side  by  masses  of  rock,  the  lower  end 
of  Goat  Island  projecting  roughly  from  the  torrents 
at  each  side,  so  as  to  hide  part  of  the  more  distant 


■n 


3G0 


Tlic  Falls  of  Niajura. 


one  from  my  siolit.  A  liill  of  fr:i<rnu'nts  from  it? 
face  lay  heaped  up  in  the  centre,  and  more  thinly 
scattered  at  the  further  side.  But  I  could  pav 
little  attention  to  details,  with  the  hu<xe  cauldion 
within  a  few  yards  of  me,  into  which  the  preat 
^recn  walls  of  water  were  heinrr  every  moment  pre- 
cipitated, and  which,  broken  into  sheets  of  foam, 
hissed,  and  lashed,  and  rafjed,  and  boiled,  in  wild 
uproar,  as  far  as  my  eye  could  reach.  The  con- 
trast between  thesolenni  calmness  of  the  o;reat  sheet 
of  iireen  ever  iilidini;  down  in  the  centre,  with  the 
curtain  of  snowy  wreaths  at  its  ed<i;es,  where  the 
stream  above,  from  its  shallowness,  broke  into  white 
crystalline  rain  in  the  moment  of  its  first  descent, 
and  the  tossinn;,  smokinn;  storm  beneath,  was  over- 
])owerino;,  and  —  acc()m}>anied  as  it  ever  was  with 
the  stunninir,  deafenin<i;  noise  of  three  thousand  six 
hundred  million^  of  cubic  ^Qiit  of  water  faHin<i;  in  an 
hour,  I'rom  so  great  a  heioht  —  filled  my  mind 
with  a  sense  of  the  awful  majesty  and  power  of 
God  such  as  I  scarcely  remember  to  have  felt  else- 
where. 

Being  anxious  to  cross  to  the  American  side,  1 
walked  down  the  side  of  the  river,  after  having 
ascended  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  and,  at  last,  about 
a  mile  below,  found  a  road  runnino-  down  slowly  to 
the  level  of  the  water,  the  slope  having  brought  me 
back  to  within  a  comparatively  short  distance  of  the 
Fall.  It  would  have  been  imjiossible  to  have 
reached  this   point   by  keeping   along   below,  the 


Tlie  Falls  of  Nlajara. 


361 


broken  licaps  of  rock  niakinn;  the  way  iiiipracticii- 
Dle.  The  river  at  tlie  place  1  liad  now  liaiiicd  is, 
however,  so  wondertiilly  cahu,  tliata  f'eriy-hoat  plies 
between  the  Hritish  and  American  shores,  and  by 
tliis  I  crossed.  Some  ladies  wlio  were  in  it  seelncd, 
at  Hrst,  in  some  measure  alarmed  by  tlie  lieavinLr  ol' 
the  water,  but  as  the  suriaeo  was  unbroken,  and 
reflection  showed  that  it  must  be  safe,  they  soon 
resiii-ned  themselves  to  the  charms  of  the  view 
around.  Forthwith,  the  boat  was  in  the  centre  of 
a  vast  semicircle  of  descendin<^  floods,  more  tliaii 
three  thousand  feet  in  their  sweep,  and  on  the  ed«:;e 
of  the  foaming  sheets  of  the  unfathomable  i;ull', 
into  which  thev  were  thunderinii;  down.  The 
o;rand  cUffs  on  each  side,  the  brown  rocks  ot'  (ioat 
Island  in  the  mids<^,  the  fringe  of  huo;e  trees  in  tlu; 
distance  on  every  hand,  the  clouds  of  spray  which 
rose  in  thick  smoke  from  the  tormented  waters  — 
the  whole  ])ierced  and  lighted  up  by  the  rays  of  a 
glorious  sun,  made  a  scene  of  surpassing  beauty. 
1  could  not,  however,  take  my  eyes  for  more  than 
a  moment  from  the  overwhelming  grandeur  of  the 
main  feature  in  the  picture.  Still,  down,  in  their 
awful,  dense,  stupenchjus  floods,  came  the  waters, 
gathered  from  the  inland  seas  of  a  continent,  pour- 
ing as  if  another  deluge  were  about  to  overwhelm 
all  things.  But,  high  over  them,  in  the  ever-ris- 
ing clouds  of  va})or,  stretched  a  great  rainbow^,  as 
if  to  remind  us  of  the  solenm  pledge  given  of  old, 
and  the  very  edges  of  the  mist  glittered,  as  each 

31 


M 


•r 


362 


TJic  Falls  '.]/'  Niayara. 


beat  of  the  oar  sent  us  on,  with  a  succession  of  j)ris- 
matic  coh)rs,  the  broken  fragments  of  others  whicli 
shone  for  a  moment  and  then  passed  away. 

The  ascent  at  the  American  side  was  acconi- 
phshed  by  a  contrivance  whicli  I  tliink  must  be 
ahnost  unique.  A  strong  wooden  raih'oad  has  been 
laid,  at  a  most  perilous  slope,  from  the  bottom  to 
the  top  of  the  clitf,  and  a  conveyance  which  is  sim- 
ply three  huge  wooden  steps,  on  wheels,  furnishL's 
the  means  of  ascent,  a  wheel  at  the  top  driven  by 
water,  twisting  it  up,  by  a  cable  passed  round  a 
windlass.  I  could  not  help  shuddering  at  the  con- 
sequence of  any  accident  that  might  occur,  from  so 
j)recarious  an  arrangment.  Goat  Island  is  one  of 
the  great  attractions  on  this  farther  side,  and  is 
reached  by  a  bridge  wliich  makes  one  half  forget 
the  wildness  of  the  gulf  across  which  it  is  stretched. 
There  is  a  house  on  the  island  in  which  I  found 
refreshments  and  Indian  curiosities  for  sale,  but  as 
I  was  more  interested  in  the  Falls  for  the  moment 
than  in  any  thing  else,  I  pushed  on  by  a  path  which 
turned  to  the  rioht  and  led  straiiiht  to  them.  A 
small  island  on  the  very  edge  of  the  precipice,  and 
connected  by  a  frail  bridge  with  Goat  Island,  lay 
on  my  road.  It  was  the  scene  of  a  very  affecting 
accident  in  1849,  A  gentleman  from  Buffalo  had 
visited  it  along  with  his  family,  and  a  young  man 
of  the  name  of  Addington,  and  after  looking  over  it, 
the  party  were  about  to  leave  the  spot,  when  Ad- 
dington, in  his  thoughtless  spirits,  suddenly  took  up 


I 


Tlic  Falls  (if  Xiajara. 


36^ 


one  of  the  little  chiklreii,  a  girl,  in  Tiis  arms,  and 
held  her  over  the  ed«j;e  of  the  bank,  tellinj'  iiur  tluit 
he  was  goin^;  to  throw  her  in.  The  poor  child,  ter- 
rified, unfortuiiately  made  a  twist,  and  rolled  out  of 
his  hands  into  the  stream.  Poor  Addington,  in  a 
moment,  with  a  loud  cry  of  horror,  sprang  in  to 
save  her,  but  both,  almost  before  the  others  at  their 
side  knew  that  any  thing  of  so  fearful  a  kind  had 
happened,  were  swept  into  the  abyss  beneatii. 
Beyond  Goat  Island,  a  singularly  daring  structure 
lijis  enabled  visitors  to  cross  to  some  scattered 
masses  of  rock  on  the  very  brink  of  the  great  fall. 
A  tower  has  beei^  erected  on  them,  and  a  slight 
bridge,  which  is  always  wet  with  the  spray,  has 
been  stretched  across  to  it.  From  this  j)oint  the 
whole  extent  of  the  falls  is  before  you.  It  was  an 
awful  siiiht  to  look  down  on  the  rushiny;  terrors  at 
my  feet.  I  felt  confused,  overwhelmed,  and  almost 
stunned.  Once  after,  on  another  visit,  I  clambered 
out  to  it  over  the  mounds  of  ice  in  winter,  but  I 
hardly  know  that  the  impression  was  deeper  then. 

There  are  accidents  every  now  and  then  at 
Niagara,  but  it  is  only  wonderful  that,  Jimidst  such 
dangers,  there  are  no  more.  The  truth  is,  that 
here,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  familiarity  breeds  con- 
tempt. Thus,  in  1854,  a  man  ventured,  with  his 
son,  to  cross  the  rapids  above  the  falls,  in  a  skiff',  to 
save  some  property  which  happened  to  be  on  a  Hat- 
bottomed  "  scow,"  which  had  broken  from  its  moor- 


I-- 


u,.    i     .' 

>i  •  - 


3Gi 


The  Falh  of  Nitfjara. 


in.i!;s,  find  stuck  fast  at  some  distance  above  Gnat 
l>land.  Tlie  two  shot  out  into  tlie  broken  water, 
and  were  carried  witli  terril)le  swiftness  down 
toward  tlie  "  scow,*'  into  wliicli  tlie  son  sprani;'  as 
tlu'V  shot  j)ast,  fastening  tlic  skiff  to  it  as  lie  did  so. 
llavini:  taken  olf  the  jxoods  they  wished  to  save, 
the  skill',  with  hoth  on  board,  was  once  more 
pushed  off,  and  flew  like  an  arrow  on  the  foaming 
water,  toward  the  Three  Sisters  —  the  name  (»r 
some  rocks  above  Goat  Island.  The  fate  of  the 
two  men  seemed  to  be  sealed,  for  they  were  near- 
ino-  the  centre  Fall,  and,  to  go  over  it,  would  be 
instant  death.  But  they  nianao;ed,  when  on  its 
vei'y  verj^e,  to  i)ush  into  an  eddy,  and  reach  tlie 
second  Sister.  On  this,  they  landed,  and  havino; 
draiiiied  ashore  the  skiff,  carried  it  to  the  foot  of  the 
island,  a  proof  that  the  "  property  "  they  wished 
to  rescue  could  not  have  weighed  very  much. 
There,  they  once  more  launched  it,  and  making  a 
bold  sweep  down  the  ra[)ids,  their  oars  going  with 
their  utmost  streniith,  tliev  succeeded  in  reaching' 
the  shore  of  Goat  Island  in  safety,  thouMi  it  seems 
to  me  as  if,  after  thus  tempting  their  fate,  they 
baldly  deserved  to  do  so. 

I  was  very  much  struck  by  the  appearance  of  the 
rapids  above  the  Falls,  on  a  visit  I  made  to  an 
island  some  distance  up  the  river,  in  the  very  mid- 
dle of  them.  A  fine  broad  bridixe,  built  by  tho 
owner  of  the  island,  and  of  the  neighboring  shore, 


The  Falls  of  Niai/ara. 


365 


enal)los  vou  to  reach  it  witli  oaso.  It  lies  about 
half-way  In'tween  Chipjxnva  and  the  Falls,  on  tlio 
British  sido.  The  whole  surf'aee  of  the  <:;ivat 
stream  is  hroken  into  a  lon^  cascade,  each  leaj)  of 
which  is  made  with  more  swit'tness  than  the  one 
beloie.  It  is  a  wild,  tunudtuous  scene,  and  forms 
a  Ht  j)relnde  to  the  spectacle  to  which  it  leads. 
Accidents  occasionally  ha])])('n  here  also.  Jnst 
before  I  visited  it,  a  little  child  had  strayed  fi'om  a 
j)arty  with  whom  she  was,  and  must  have  falKii 
into  the  stream,  as  she  was  never  seen  aiiain  after 
beinii"  missed. 

Some  years  ago,  a  number  of  people  in  tho 
neiii;hborliood  formed  the  straniie  wish  to  see  a  boat, 
laden  with  a  variety  of  animals,  go  down  these 
raj)ids  and  over  the  Falls.  It  was  a  cruel  and  idle 
curiosity  which  could  dictate  such  a  thought,  but 
they  managed  to  get  money  enough  to  purchase  a 
bear  and  some  other  animals,  which  were  duly 
launched,  nnpiloted,  from  the  shore  near  Chij)pewa. 
From  whatever  instinctive  sonse  of  dantrcr  it  would 
be  impossible  to  say,  the  creatures  apj)eared  very 
soon  to  be  alarmed.  The  bear  jumped  overboard 
on  seeing  the  mist  of  the  Falls,  as  the  people  on  the 
spot  say,  and  by  great  efforts,  managed  to  swim 
across  so  far  that  he  was  carried  down  to  (ioat 
Island.  The  other  animals  likewise  tried  to  escape, 
but  in  vain.  The  only  living  creatures  that  re- 
mained in  the  boat  were  some  geese,  which  could 

81* 


3G0 


The  Falls  of  Niayara. 


not  liave  cscapecl  if  they  liad  wislied,  tlieir  wind's 
liiivin<^  been  eut  sliort.  They  went  over,  and  sev- 
eral were  killed  at  onee,  though,  curiously  en()u<;h, 
some  nianao;od,  by  flutterin<i,  to  get  beyond  the 
crushing  bh)W  of  the  descending  water,  and  reached 
the  shore  in  safety. 


Tlic  Suspeimuv-Bridjc  at  Niajara.       3G7 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

The  Busponsion-bridfjc  at  Ninpnra. — The  whirlpool.  —  The  battle 
of  Liindy's  Lane.  —  Brock's  monument.  —  A  soldier  nearly 
drowned. 


rpWO  miles  below  the  Falls  an  attraction  |)re- 
-*-  Konts  itself  now,  that  was  not  in  existence  when  I 
first  visited  them,  thoii<j;h  I  have  seen  it  often 
since :  the  Great  Suspension  Bri(l<:;e  over  the 
chasm  throuo-h  which  the  river  flows  below.  Mudo 
entirely  of  iron  wire,  twisted  into  ropes  and  cables 
of  all  sizes,  the  lar<Test  measuring  ten  inches 
through,  and  containing  about  four  thousand  miles 
of  wire,  it  stretches,  in  a  road  twenty-four  feet  in 
breadth,  in  two  stories,  the  under  one  for  foot-pas- 
sengers and  carriages,  the  other,  twenty-eight  feet 
above  it,  for  a  steady  stream  of  railway  trains,  at  the 
height  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  over  the  deep 
rushing  Avaters,  for  eight  hundred  feet,  from  the 
Canadian  to  the  American  shore.  Two  huire 
towers,  rising  nearly  ninety  feet  on  the  American 
side,  and  nearly  eighty  on  the  British,  bear  up  the 
vast  fabric,  which  is  firmly  anchored  in  solid  ma- 
sonry built  into  the  ground  beyond.  It  is  hard  to 
believe,  what  is  nevertheless  the  fact,  that  the  airy 


Wv-i 


i!f 


['■111 


'I, 


308 


The  Whirlpool. 


arid  I'lciraiit  tlniiix  tlius"  li:mi;infr  over  the  jjiilf,  Is  1)V 
no  iiicaiis  so  lii^lit  as  it  looks,  hut  weii^lis  t'lillv'  ('i;;lit 
limuh't'd  tons.  W'licn  you  stej)  on  it  and  tei'l  it 
tremble  beneath  any  passiui;  wa<j;on,  the  tliou;j;ht  of 
trains  iroinij:  over  it  sei'uis  like  sendini;  tlieni  to  cer- 
tain  destruction.  Vet  tliey  do  <i;o,  hour  after  hour, 
and  have  done  so  safely  for  yi'ars,  the  otdy  j)recau- 
tioii  observed  bein<i;  to  ereep  alonix  at  the  slowest 
walk.  It  is  open  at  the  sides  —  that  i>i,  you  ean  see 
uj)  and  down  the  river,  and  over  into  the  awful 
abyss,  but  my  head  is  not  steady  enouo;h  to  stand 
lookin<»;  into  such  u  depth.  How  Hlondin  ecild 
j)ass  over  on  his  I'ope  has  always  been  ineomprehen- 
sible  to  me  ;  the  bridge  itself  was  not  broad  enouiih 
for  my  nerves.  Yet  he  i)erformed  his  wonderful 
feat  ajjiain  and  aoain,  close  l)y,  and  each  time  with 
accumulated  dilHculties,  until,  when  the  Prince  of 
Wales  visited  Niai^ara,  he  actually  carried  over  a 
man  on  his  back  from  the  Canadian  to  the  Ameri- 
can side,  and  came  back  on  stilts  a  yard  high,  play 
in<j;  all  kinds  of  antics  on  the  wwy. 

Every  one  has  heard  of  the  whirlj)ool  at  the  Falls, 
and  most  of  the  visitors  ^o  down  the  three  miles  to 
it.  To  he  like  others,  I  also  strolled  down,  hut  1 
was  oreatly  disappointed.  I  had  formed  in  my 
mind  a  very  hi^hly-wrou^xht  picture  of  a  terrible 
roariHo;  vortex,  tlyinu;  round  in  foam,  at  the  rate  of 
a  p'eat  many  miles  an  hour  ;  but  instead,  I  found 
a  turn  in  the  channel,  which  they  told  me  was  the 
wliirlpool ;    though,  to  my  notion,  it   needed    the 


i'»i.!    .' 


The   Whirlpool, 


3G0 


name  to  be  written  over  it  to  enable  one  to  know 
what  it  was,  like  the  hadly-paintrd  si^u,  on  wiiich 
the  artist  informed  the  passer-hy,  in  lar;j;e  letters, 
"  'i'his  is  a  horse."  I  dare  say  it  would  have 
wliirled  (juite  enou«i;h  for  my  taste  had  1  heiMi  in  it, 
but  from  the  brow  of  the  ehasm  it  seems  to  take 
thiniis  very  leisuri-b'  indeed,  as  if  it  weri'  treacK", 
rather >han  water,  i  here  are  stories  ai)out  the 
strenn;th  of  the  current,  howevf-r,  that  shows  it  to 
be  greater  tliaii  i..  apparenl  from  a  little  distance. 
A  deserter,  some  yeavs  n<xo.  tried  to  net  over  bilow 
the  Falls  to  the  Anjei  lean  side  on  no  better  con- 
veyance than  a  hu<re  |>lank.  I>ut  the  stream  was 
stronger  than  he  had  supposed  ;  and  in  ^j)ite  of  all 
his  efforts,  he  was  foiced  down  to  this,  eirclinir  hor- 
ror, which  speedily  sent  him  and  his  jdank  round 
and  round  in  m-aduallv  eontraetinir  whirls,  imtil, 
after  a  time,  they  reached  the  centre.  There  was 
no  pushing  out,  and  the  ])oor  wretch  wis  kept 
revolving,  with  each  end  of  his  su})port  sunk  in  the 
vortex  by  turns,  requiring  him  to  crawl  backwards 
and  forwards  unceasingly  for  move  tlian  a  da}, 
before  means  were  found  to  brino;  him  to  land. 
Somebody  said  at  the  time  that  he  would  surely 
become  an  expert  circumnavigator  after  such  n 
training  ;  but  his  miraculous  escape  has  most  [)rol)a- 
bly  not  induced  many  others  to  make  the  same 
venturesome  voyage. 

ihe  village  of  Drummondville,  a  little  back  from 
the  Falls,  on  the  British  side,  is  memorable  as  the 


*' 


Iff 


i:  i  '!; 


i-^-ff 


mo 


A  Sad  Mistake, 


1    i 


sciMie  of  the  Battle  of  Lundy's  Lane,  in  the  war  of 
1812-1814.  I  was  fortunate  enou<^h  to  meet  with 
an  intelligent  man,  who,  when  a  boy,  had  seen  the 
battle  from  a  distance ;  and  he  went  with  me  over 
the  ground.  In  passing  through  a  garden,  on  which 
a  tine  croj)  of  Indian  corn  was  waving,  he  stopped 
to  tell  me  tliat  on  the  evening  after  the  battle,  he 
saw  a  number  of  soldiers  come  to  this  spot,  which 
was  then  an  open  field,  and  commence  digging  a 
great  pit.  Curious  to  know  all  they  were  doing, 
he  went  up  and  stood  beside  them,  and  found  it 
was  a  grave  for  a  number  of  poor  fellows  who  had 
been  shot  by  mistake  in  the  darkness  of  the  night 
before.  An  aide-de-camp  had  been  sent  off  in  hot 
haste  down  to  Queenston  from  the  battle,  to  order 
up  reinforcements  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  had 
been  obeyed  so  promptly  that  our  forces  on  the 
field  could  not  believe  they  had  come  when  they 
heard  them  marching  up  the  hill,  but  supposing 
they  must  be  Americans,  fired  a  volley  of  both  can- 
non and  musketry  into  their  ranks.  There  they  lie 
now,  without  any  memorial,  in  a  private  garden, 
which  is  dug  up  every  year,  and  replanted  over 
their  bones,  as  if  there  were  no  such  wreck  of  brave 
hearts  sleeping  below.  In  the  churchyard  there 
were  a  number  of  tablets  of  wood,  instead  of  stone, 
marking  the  graves  of  officers  slain  in  the  conflict. 
I  picked  up  more  than  one  which  had  rotted  off  at 
the  ground,  and  were  lying  wherever  the  wind  had 
carried  them.     Peach-trees,  laden  with  fruit,  hang 


The  Seneca  Indians, 


371 


over  and  amidst  the  graves,  and  sheep  were  nibbling 
the  grass.  But  what  seemed  the  most  vivid  remi- 
niscence of  the  strife  was  a  wooden  house,  to  wliich 
my  guide  led  me,  the  sides  and  ends  of  which  were 
perforated  with  a  great  number  of  holes  made  on 
the  day  by  musket-balls ;  a  larger  hole  here  and 
there,  showing  where  a  cannon  had  also  sent  its 
missile  through  it.  I  was  suqirised  to  see  it  inhab- 
ited, with  so  many  apertures  unstopped  outside ; 
but  perhaps  it  was  plastered  within. 

Every  part  of  the  Niagara  frontier  has,  indeed, 
its  own  story  of  war  and  death.  On  the  way  to 
Queenston  I  passed  a  gloomy  chasm,  into  which 
the  waters  of  a  small  stream,  called  the  Bloody  Run, 
fall,  on  their  course  to  the  river.  It  got  its  name 
from  an  incident  in  the  old  French  war,  very 
characteristic  of  the  times  and  the  country.  A 
detachment  of  British  troops  was  marching  up  the 
banks  of  the  Niagara  with  a  convoy  of  wagons,  and 
had  reached  this  point,  when  a  band  of  Seneca 
Indians,  in  the  service  of  the  French,  leaped  out 
from  the  woods  immediately  over  the  precipice,  und 
uttering  from  all  sides  their  terrible  war-whoop, 
rushed  down,  pouring  in  a  deadly  volley  as  they 
closed,  and  hurled  them  and  all  they  had,  soldiers, 
wagons,  horses,  and  drivers,  over  the  cliifs  into  the 
abyss  below,  where  they  were  dashed  to  pieces  on 
the  rocks.  It  was  the  work  almost  of  a  moment ; 
they  were  gone  before  they  could  collect  themselves 
together,  or  realize  their  position.     The  little  stream 


o  1 1^ 


Brock's  3Iotiument. 


I'i} 


I  ( 


was  red  witli  their  Llood,  and  out  of  the  whole  num- 
ber only  two  es('aj)ed  —  the  one  a  soldier,  who,  as 
by  miracle,  <i;()t  back,  under  cover  of  nin;ht,  to  Fort 
JNiairara,  at  the  edi^e  of  Lake  Ontario:  t  le  other  a 
(rentlenian,  who  sj)urred  his  horse  through  the  horde 
of  savai^es  on  the  first  moment  of  the  alarm,  and 
got  off  in  safety.  My  attention  was  drawn,  as  1 
got  further  on,  to  the  monument  of  General  I^rock, 
killed  at  the  battle  of  Queenston,  in  1812,  which 
stands  near  the  village  of  that  name,  on  a  fine  height 
close  to  the  ed<;e  of  the  river.  It  is  a  beautiful 
object  when  viewed  from  a  distance,  and  no  less  so 
on  a  near  approach,  and  is,  I  think,  as  yet,  the  only 
public  monument  in  the  western  province.  I  had 
often  heard  it  sj)oken  of  with  admiration  before  I 
saw  it,  and  could  easily  understand  why  it  was  so. 
I  could  not  but  feel,  that  besides  being  a  tribute  to 
the  memory  of  the  illustrious  dead,  it  served  also  to 
keep  alive,  through  successive  generations,  an  en- 
thusiastic feeling  of  patriotism  and  of  a  resolute  de- 
votion to  duty. 

Taking  the  steamer  at  Queenston,  which  is  a 
small,  lifeless  place,  I  now  struck  out  on  the  waters 
of  Ontario,  to  see  Toronto  once  more.  As  we  en- 
tered the  lake,  I  was  amused  by  the  remark  of  an 
Irish  lad,  evidently  fresh  from  his  native  island. 
Leaning  close  by  me  over  the  side  of  the  vessel,  he 
suddenly  turned  round  from  a  deep  muj^.ing,  in 
which  he  had  been  absorbed,  and  broke  out  — 
"  Och,   sir !  what  a  dale  o'  fine  land   thim   lakes 


A  Soldier  nearly  Drowned. 


373 


cover !  "  Such  a  tliougjit,  in  a  country  where  a 
l)L)undless  wilderness  stretches  so  ck)sely  in  one  un- 
broken hne,  seemed  inex})ressibly  kidicrous  ;  not  to 
speak  of  tlie  uselessness  of  all  the  hmd  that  was  "  un- 
rovered,*'  if  tliere  had  been  no  kikes  to  facihtate 
passage  from  one  point  to  another.  As  we  k'ft 
tke  wli^rf  at  tlie  town  of  Niaiiara,  wkick  stands  at 
tlie  moutk  of  tke  river,  on  the  lake,  a  great  stir 
was  caused  for  a  short  time  by  a  soldier  of  tke 
Hi  lies  kaving  been  tumbled  into  tke  water,  and 
nearly  drowned,  tkrbugk  tke  stupidity  of  a  poor 
Connaugkman  wko  was  in  charge  of  the  plank  by 
wliich  those  who  were  leaving  the  steamer,  before 
siie  started,  were  to  reach  the  shore.  He  was  in 
sucli  a  breathless  hurry  and  wild  excitement,  that 
he  would  hardly  leave  it  in  its  place  while  the  vis- 
itors were  crowdinji;  out ;  once  and  a<iain  he  had 
made  a  snatch  at  it,  only  to  have  some  one  put 
his  foot  on  it,  and  run  off.  At  last,  the  soldier 
came,  but  just  as  he  made  a  step  on  it,  the  fellow, 
who  had  his  face  to  the  shore,  and  saw  nothing 
except  the  crowd,  gave  it  a  pull,  and  down  went 
the  man  into  the  water,  cutting  his  chin  badly  in 
falling.  He  evidently  could  not  swim,  and  sank 
almost  at  once,  but  he  came  up  to  find  ropes  thrown 
out  for  him  to  clino;  to.  But  somehow  he  could 
not  catch  them,  and  he  would,  in  another  moment, 
have  o-one  down  a^ain.  Luckilv,  however,  some 
one  had  sense  enouirh  to  thrust  down  a  broad  ladder, 
which  was  standing  near,  and  up  this  he  nianaged 

32 


374 


A  ColoneVa  Kindness. 


to  climb,  we  holding  the  top  steady  till  he  did  so 
Every  attention  was  instantly  paid  him  ;  and  I  dare 
say  the  mishap  did  him  no  harm  beyond  the  ducking. 
In  a  few  minutes  he  was  ashore  again ;  and  I  was 
delighted  to  see  1  le  colonel,  who  happened  to  be 
present,  give  him  his  arm,  and  walk  away  with  him, 
talking  kindly  to  him  as  they  went. 


'ra 


The  Canadian  Lakes, 


375 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

The  Canadian  lakes.  —  The  exile's  love  of  home.  —  The  colored 
people  in  Canada.  —  Rice.  —  The  Maid  of  the  Mist.  —  Home-spun 
cloth.  —  A  narrow  road. — A  grumbler.  —  New  England  emi- 
grants. —  A  potato  pit.  —  The  winter's  wood. 

WHAT  vast  sheets  of  water  the  lakes  of  Can- 
ada are !  Beo-innino;  in  the  far  north-west, 
with  Superior,  nearly  as  large  as  all  Scotland,  we 
have  Michigan,  Huron,  Erie,  and  Ontario,  in  suc- 
cession, each  more  like  a  sea  than  a  lake.  On 
crossing  them,  you  have  no  land  in  sight  any  more 
than  on  the  ocean ;  and,  like  it,  they  have  whole 
fleets  on  them,  all  through  the  season  of  navigation. 
They  yield  vast  sums  from  their  fisheries,  and  their 
waves  wash  shores  as  extensive  as  those  of  many 
kingdoms.  It  is  striking  how  gigantic  is  the  pro- 
portion of  every  thing  in  nature  in  the  New  World. 
Vast  lakes  and  rivers,  the  wonderful  Niagara,  end- 
less forests,  and  boundless  prairies  —  all  these  form 
a  great  contrast  to  the  aspects  of  nature  in  Europe. 
The  chain  of  lakes,  altogether,  stretches  over 
more  than  a  thousand  miles,  with  very  sliort  inter- 
vals between  any  of  them,  and  none  between  some. 
Even  Ontario,  which  is  the  smallest,  is  nine  times 


;(,: 


I  i 


\i{ 


mm'  1 

11 

376 


Tlie  Exile's  Love  of  Home, 


as  long,  and  from  twice  to  four  times  as  broad,  as 
the  sea  between  Dover  and  Calais.  I  could  not 
help  thinking  of  the  fact  that  there  were  men  still 
living  who  remembered  when  the  Indians  had  ])os- 
session  of  nearly  all  the  shore  of  Lake  Ontario,  and 
when  only  two  or  three  of  their  wigwams  st<jod  on 
the  site  of  the  town  to  which  I  was  then  sailing.  I 
found  Toronto  much  increased  since  my  first  visit 
to  it  —  its  streets  macadamized  in  some  places, 
pavements  of  plank  laid  (\o\\  n  on  the  sides  of  sev- 
eral, the  houses  better,  and  the  shops  more  attract- 
ive. When  we  first  came,  it  was  as  muddy  a 
place  as  could  be  imagined  ;  but  a  few  years  work 
wonders  in  a  new  country  like  Canada.  There 
was  now  no  fear  of  a  lady  losing  her  India-rubber 
overshoes  in  crossing  the  street,  as  one  of  my  sisters 
had  done  on  our  first  coming,  nor  were  wagons  to 
be  seen  stuck  hard  and  fast  in  the  xqyj  heart  of  the 
town.  I  found  my  married  sister  comfortably 
established,  and  spent  a  very  pleasant  time  with  her 
and  her  husband.  There  is,  however,  not  much  to 
see  in  Toronto  even  now,  and  still  less  at  that  time. 
It  lies  very  low,  near  the  lake,  though  the  ground 
rises  as  it  recedes  from  it.  The  neighborhood  is 
rather  uninteresting,  to  my  taste,  from  the  tame- 
ness  of  the  scenery.  It  is  an  English  town,  how- 
ever, in  its  feelings  and  outward  life,  and  that  made 
it  delio-htful.  It  is  beautiful  to  see  liow  true- 
hearted  nearly  every  one  becomes  to  his  mothei- 
country  when   he   has  left   it.     There   has   often 


LoijalUj  of  the  Canadians. 


377 


\M\ 


seemed  to  me  to  be  more  real  love  of  Britain  out 
of  it  than  in  it,  as  if  it  needed  to  be  contemplated 
fit  m  a  distance,  in  order  thoroughly  to  aj)|)reciate 
all  its  claims  u|)on  our  love  and  respect.  In  Can- 
ada almost  every  one  is  a  busy  local  ])()Htician, 
deeply  immersed  in  party  squabbles  and  manoju- 
vres,  and  often  separated  by  them  I'rom  his  neigh- 
bor. But  let  the  magic  name  of"  home  "  be  men- 
tioned, and  the  remembrance  of  the  once-familiar 
land  causes  every  other  tliouoht  to  be  foi'iiotten. 
In  the  time  of  the  rebellion  in  1837,  before  we 
came  out,  it  was  found,  that  although  multitudes 
had  talked  wildly  enough  while  things  were  all 
([uiet,  the  moment  it  was  proj)osed  to  rise  against 
England,  the  British  born  part  of  them,  and  many 
native  Canadians  as  well,  at  once  went  over  to  the 
old  flag,  to  defend  it,  if  necessary,  with  their  lives. 
And  when  it  seemed  as  if  England  needed  help  in 
the  time  of  the  war  with  Russia,  Canada  came  for- 
ward in  a  moment,  of  her  own  accord,  and  raised 
a  reiximent  to  aid  in  fiiniitino;  her  battles,  and  serve 
her  in  any  part  of  the  world.  Later  still,  when  the 
Prince  of  Wales  went  over,  they  gave  him  such  a 
rece})tion  as  showed  their  loyalty  most  nobly. 
Through  the  whole  province  it  seemed  as  if  the 
population  were  smitten  with  an  universal  enthusi- 
asm, and  despaired  of  exhibiting  it  sufficiently. 
And  but  yesterday,  when  rumors  of  war  rose  once 
more,  the  whole  people  were  kindled  in  a  moment 

with  a  loyal  zeal. 

32* 


• 


378 


The  Colored  People, 


I  was  very  iniicli  struck,  on  tliis  trip,  witli  tlie 
number  of  colored  peoj)le  wlio  have  found  a  refuge 
in  Canada.  In  all  the  hotels,  most  of  the  waiters, 
and  a  large  pro})()rtion  of  the  cooks,  seemed  to  be 
colored.  They  take  to  these  employments  natur- 
ally, and  never  appear  to  feel  themselves  in  greater 
glory  than  when  fussing  about  the  table  at  meals, 
or  wielding  the  basting-ladle  in  the  kitchen.  They 
very  seldom  turn  to  trades,  and  even  their  children, 
as  they  grow  up,  are  not  much  more  inclined  to 
them.  I  used  to  think  it  was,  perha])S,  because, 
as  slaves,  they  might  not  have  learned  trades,  but 
this  would  not  apply  to  those  bom  in  Canada,  who 
might  learn  them  if  they  liked.  They  become, 
instead,  whitewashers,  barbers,  or  waiters,  and 
cooks,  like  their  fathers  before  them.  I  was  told, 
however,  that  they  are  a  well-conducted  set  of  j)eo- 
ple,  rarely  committing  any  crimes,  and  very  tem- 
perate. They  have  places  of  worship  of  their  own, 
and  I  was  amused  by  a  friend  telling  us,  one  night, 
how  he  had  met  their  minister  going  home,  carry- 
ing a  piece  of  raw  beef  at  his  side  by  a  string,  and 
how,  when  he  had  one  evening  gone  to  their 
chapel,  the  official,  a  colored  man,  had  told  him 
that  "  the  folks  had  tu'ned  out  raitlrer  lean  in  the 
mo'nin,  and,  'sides,  the  -wood's  sho't  —  so  I  guess 
we  sha'n't  open  to  night."  Poor,  simple  creatures, 
it  is,  indeed,  a  grand  thing  that  there  is  a  home 
open  for  them  like  Canada,  where  they  can  have 
the  full  enjoyment  of  liberty.     Long  may  the  red 


A 


Hamilton, 


379 


cross  of  St.  George  wave  an  invitation  to  their  per- 
secuted race  to  come  and  find  a  reliigc  under  its 
sliadow  ! 

I  went  home  again  by  way  of  Hamihon,  to 
which  I  crossed  in  a  steamer.  The  white  houses, 
peeping  tln'ougli  tlie  woods,  were  a  pretty  sight  at 
the  phices  where  we  stopped,  the  Lirger  ones  stand- 
ing on  all  sides,  detached,  in  the  midst  of  pleasant 
grass  and  trees ;  the  others,  in  the  villages,  built 
with  an  easy  variety  of  shape  and  size  that  could 
hardly  be  seen  in  an  older  country.  The  tin  spires 
of  churches  rose,  every  here  and  there,  brightly 
through  the  trees,  reminding  one  that  the  faitli  of 
his  dear  native  land  had  not  been  forgotten,  but 
was  cherished  as  fondly  in  the  lonely  wilderness  as 
it  had  been  at  home.  Hamilton,  the  only  town  of 
Canada  West,  with  a  hill  near  it,  gave  me  a  day's 
pteasure  in  a  visit  to  a  friend,  and  a  ramble  over 
*'  the  mountain,"  as  they  call  the  ridge  behind  it. 
The  sight  of  streets  built  of  stone,  instead  of  wood 
or  brick,  was  positively  delightful,  bringing  one  in 
mind  of  the  stability  of  an  older  country.  "  Havy 
you  ever  seen  any  of  this  ?  "  said  my  friend,  whew 
we  were  back  in  his  room,  and  he  handed  me  a 
grain  different  from  any  I  had  ever  noticed  before^ 
I  said  I  had  not.  It  was  rice  ;  got  from  Rice  Laki/ 
when  he  was  down  there  lately.  The  lake  hes  a 
little  north  of  Cobourg,  which  is  seventy  miles  or 
so   below  Toronto.     He  was   verv  much 


very 


pi. 


with   his  trip.     The  road   to  it  lies,  after  leaving 


m 


380 


Lake  Rice. 


\) 


Cobourg,  tliroun;li  a  fine  farinin<i;  country  for  some 
distance,  and  tlien  you  <;et  on  wliat  tlie  t'ollss  call 
•  tlie  ])lain.s  '  —  <(reat  readies  of  sandy  soil,  covered 
with  low,  scruljljy  oak  bushes,  thick  with  iilberts. 
As  you  get  to  the  lake,  the  view  is  really  beautiful, 
while  the  leaves  are  out.  The  road  stretclies  on 
through  avenues  of  green,  and,  at  last,  when  you 
get  nearer,  there  are  charming  pei'ps  of  the  water 
through  a  I'ringe  of  beautiful  trees,  and  over  and 
through  a  workl  of  creepers,  and  vines,  and  bushes 
of  all  sorts.  The  rice  o-rows  onlv  in  the  shalk)w 
borders  of  the  lake,  rising  in  beds  along  the  shore, 
from  the  deep  mud,  in  which  it  takes  root.  It  looks 
curious  to  see  grain  in  the  middle  of  water.  The 
Indians  have  it  left  to  them  as  a  perquisite,  and 
they  come  when  it  gets  ripe,  and  gather  it  in  their 
canoes,  sailino;  alouii  and  bendino;  down  the  ears 
over  the  edo;es  of  their  frail  vessels,  and  beatiniii;  out 
the  rice  as  they  do  so.  They  get  a  good  deal  of 
shooting  as  well  as  rice,  for  the  ducks  and  wild  fowl 
are  as  fond  of  the  ears  as  themselves,  and  flock  in 
great  numbers  to  get  a  share  of  them.  There  are 
great  beds  along  the  shores  of  the  Georgian  Bay, 
on  Lake  Huron,  as  well  as  on  Rice  Lake,  but  there 
also  it  is  left  for  the  Indians. 

Of  course  I  was  full  of  my  recent  visit  to  the 
Falls,  and  dosed  my  friend  with  all  the  details 
which  occurred  to  me.  He  had  noticed,  like  me, 
how  the  windows  rattle  unceasino-ly  in  the  neijxh- 
borhood,  from  the  concussion  of  the  air,  and  told 


^. 


Tlie ''Maid  of  the  Mist:' 


381 


me  of  a  curious  consequence  of  tlie  dampness,  from 
the  minute   j)o\vdery  s[)ray  tliat   floats  far  in  every 
direction  ;  —  that  they  could  not  keep  a  ])iano  from 
warping  and  <i;ettin<:;  out  of  tune,  even  as  far  as  a 
mile  from  the    Falls,  near  the  river's  edn-e.     The 
o;lorious  sunrise  I  had  seen   from    Drununondvillo 
came  back  again  to  my  thoughts  ;   how,  on  rising 
early  one  morninrr,  the  great  cloud  at  the  Falls,  and 
the  long  swathe  of  vapor  that  lay  over  the  chasm 
for  miles  below,  had  been  chaniied  into  irold  bv  the 
light,  and  shone   like  the   gates  of  heaven  ;   and  I 
remembered  how  I   had  been  struck  with  a  great 
pur])le    vine    near    the    river's  edge,   which,  after 
climbino-  a  loftv  elm  that  had  been  stru(dv  and  with- 
ered  by  lightning,  flung  its  arms,  waving  far,  into 
the  air.     "  Did  you  see  the  3Liid  of  the  Mist  ?  "  he 
asked.     Of  course  I  had,  and  we  talked  of  it ;  how 
the  little  steamer  plies,  many  times  a  day,  from  the 
landing-places,  close  up  to  the  Falls,  going  some- 
times so  near  that  you  stand  on  the  bank,  far  above, 
in  anxious  excitement  lest  it  should  be  sucked  into 
the  cauldron  and   perish    at  once,     I   have  stood 
thus,  wondering  if  the  paddles  would  ever  get  her 
out  of  the  white  foam  into  which  she  had  pressed, 
and  it  seemed  as  if,  though  they  were  doing  their 
utmost,  it  was  a  terrible  time  before  they  gained 
their  point.     If  any  accident  were  to  happen  to  the 
machinery,  woe  to  those  on  board  !     As  it  is,  they 
get  drenched,  in  spite  of  oil-skin  dresses,  and  must 
be  heartily  glad  when  they  reach  firm  footing  once 


in 

1 


!■      I 


882 


Jlomespun  Cloth. 


I  was  sorry  wlion  I  liad  to  leave  and  turn  my 
face  once  more  toward  liome.  As  the  staii;e  drove 
on,  tlie  roads  lu'ing  still  in  their  best  condition,  1 
liad  leisure  to  notice  every  tliin<j;.  The  ([uantity  ot' 
homespun  gray  woollen  cloth,  worn  hy  the  ranneis 
and  country  people,  was  very  nuich  greater  than  I 
liad  seen  it  in  previous  years,  and  was  in  adniirai)le 
keeping  with  the  country  around.  The  wives  and 
daughters  in  the  farm-houses  had  a  good  deal  to  do 
in  its  manufacture.  The  wool  is  taken  to  the  mill 
to  get  cleaned,  a  certain  weight  being  kej)t  back 
from  each  lot  in  payment ;  then  the  snowy-wliite 
fleece  is  twisted  into  rolls,  and  in  that  condition  it 
is  taken  back  by  the  owners  to  be  spun  into  yarn 
at  home.  I  like  the  hum  of  the  spinning-wheel 
amazino-lv,  and  have  often  waited  to  look  at 
some  titly  girl,  walking  backwards  and  forwards  at 
her  task,  at  each  approach  sending  off  another  hum, 
as  she  drives  the  wheel  round  once  more.  But  the 
cloth  is  not  made  at  home.  The  mill  gets  the  yarn 
when  finished,  and  weaves  it  into  the  homely  use- 
ful fabric  I  saw  everywhere  around.  At  one 
place  we  had  an  awkward  stoppage  on  a  piece  of 
narrow  corduroy  road.  There  happened  to  be  a 
turn  in  it,  so  that  the  one  end  could  not  be  seen 
from  the  other,  and  we  had  got  on  some  distance, 
bumping  dreadfidly  from  log  to  log,  when  a  wagon 
made  its  appearance  coming  toward  us.  It  could 
not  pass  and  it  could  not  turn,  and  there  was  water 
at  both  sides.     What  was  to  be  done  ?     It  was  a 


A  Gnunlliny  Scotchman. 


38a 


great  (question  for  tlie  two  drivers.  Their  tongues 
went  at  a  ^reat  rate  at  each  otlier  for  awhile,  but, 
after  a  time,  they  cooled  down  enough  to  discuss  the 
situation,  as  two  statesmen  ^vould  the  thrratem-il 
collision  of  empires.  They  finally  solved  the  ditH- 
culty  by  unyokin<^  the  horses  from  the  waf^on,  and 
pushing  it  back  over  the  logs  with  infinite  trouble, 
after  taking  out  as  much  of  the  load  as  was  neces- 
sary. Of  course  the  passengers  lu'lj)ed  with  right 
good-will,  turning  the  wheels,  and  straining  this 
way  and  tluit,  till  the  road  was  clear,  when  we 
drove  on  once  more.  The  bridge  at  Urantford, 
when  we  reached  it,  was  broken  down,  having 
remained  so  since  the  last  spring  Hoods,  when  it 
had  been  swept  away  by  the  ice  and  water  together, 
and  the  coach  had  to  get  through  the  stream  as 
well  as  it  could.  The  horses  behaved  well,  the 
vehicle  itself  slipped  and  bumj)ed  over  and  agju'nst 
the  stones  at  the  bottom  ;  but  it  got  a  cleaning  tliat 
it  very  much  needed,  and  neither  it  nor  we  took 
any  liarm.  A  great  lumpish  farmer,  who  travelled 
with  me,  helped  to  ])ass  the  time  by  his  curious 
notions  and  wonderful  power  of  grumbling.  A 
person  beside  him,  who  appeared  to  know  liis 
ways,  dragged  him  into  conversation,  whether  he 
would  or  not.  He  maintained  there  was  nothing 
In  Canada  like  what  he  had  seen  in  Scotland  ;  his 
wheat  had  been  destroyed  by  the  midge,  year  after 
year,  or  by  the  rust ;  his  potatoes,  he  averred,  had 
never  done  well,  and  every  thing  else  had   been 


!l 


M 


til 


'■>•' 


iilll 


I 


w 


38-4 


An  Irish  Laborer. 


'if 


Mfii 


w 


alike  miserable.  At  last  he  seemed  to  have  cot 
throiio-]i  his  lamentations,  and  his  neio;hbor  struck 
in  —  "  Well,  at  any  rate,  Mr.  M'Craw,  you  can't 
say  but  your  turnips  are  first-rate  this  year  ;  why, 
one  of  them  will  fill  a  bucket  when  you  cut  it  up 
for  the  cattle."  But  Mr.  M'Craw  was  not  to  be 
beaten,  and  had  a  ready  answer.  "  They're  fni 
owre  guid  —  I'll  never  be  fit  to  use  them  —  the 
half  o'  them* 'ill  rot  in  the  grund,  if  they  dinna 
choke  the  pvJr  kye  wi  the  size  o'  them,"'  The 
whole  of  us  laughed,  but  ]\Ir.  M'Craw  only  shook 
his  head.  As  we  w^ere  trottino;  alon<i  we  overtook 
an  Irishman — a  laborino;  man  —  and  w-ere  hailed 
bv  him  as  we  passed.  "  Will  ve  take  lis  to  Infi;er- 
soil  for  a  quarter  (an  English  shilling)  ?  "  The 
driver  pulled  up  —  made  some  objections,  but  at 
last  consented,  and  Paddy  instantly  pulled  out  his 
money,  and  reached  it  into  the  hand  which  was 
stretched  down  to  receive  it.  "Jump  in,  now  — 
quick."  But,  indeed,  he  needn't  have  said  it,  he 
was  only  too  anxious  to  do  so.  The  coach  window 
was  down,  and  the  pane  being  large,  a  good-sized 
opening  was  left.  In  a  moment  Pat  was  on  the  stej) 
below  ;  the  next,  first  one  leg  came  through  the 
window-frame,  amidst  our  unlimited  laughter ;  then 
the  body  tried  to  follow,  but  this  was  no  easy  busi- 
ness. "  Wait  a  minit.  I'll  be  thro'  in  a  minit,"  he 
shouted  to  us.  "  Get  out,  man,  do  ye  no  ken  the 
use  o'  a  door  ?"  urged  Mr.  M'Craw.  But  in  the 
mean  time  Pat  had  crushed  himself  through,  in  some 


A  Crentleman  and  Ms  Dog. 


385 


way,  and  had  landed  in  an  extraordinary  Hishion, 
as  ixentiv  as  he  coukl,  across  our  knees.      We  soon 
got  him  into  his  seat,   but  it  was  long  before   we 
ceased  lauiihino;  at  the  adventure.     He  could  never 
have  been  in  a  coach  in  his  lite  before.      I  saw  a 
misfortune  happen  in  an  omnibus  some  years  after, 
on  the  way  down  to  Toronto  from  the  Nortii,  which 
was  the  only  thing  to  be  compared  to  it  tor  its  efl'ect 
on  the  risible  powers  of  the  spectators.     A  gentle- 
man travelling  with  me  then,  had  a  favorite  dog 
with  him,  which  he  was  very  much  afraid  he  miglit 
lose,  but  w4iich  the  driver  would  not  allow  him  to 
take  inside.     At  every  stoppage  the  first  thought 
of  both  man  and  beast  seemed  the  same,  to  see  if 
all    was   right   with  the  other.     The  back  of  the 
omnibus  was  low,  and  the  dog  was  eager  to  get  in, 
but  he  and  his  master  could  only  confer  with  each 
other  from  opposite  sides  of  the  door.     At  last,  as 
we  got  near  the  town  we  came  to  a  halt  once  more. 
The   gentlemrn    was   all   anxiety    about   his  dog. 
For  the  fiftieth  time  he  put  his  head  to  the  window 
to  see  if  pvery  thing  was  right.     But  it  happened 
that,  just  as  he  did  so,  the  dog  was  in  full  flight  for 
the  same   opening,   having  summoned  up  all   his 
strength  for  a  terrible  jump  through  the  only  en- 
trance, and  reached  it  at  the  same  moment  as  his 
master's  face,  against  which  he  came  with  a  force 
which  sent  himself  back  to  the  ground  and  sorely 
disturbed  his  owner's  composure.     It  was  lucky  the 

animal  was  not  very  large,  else  it  might  have  done 

83 


J  ■ 


386 


New  England  Emigiants. 


V: 

1  - 


[IT 


^\- 


serious  damajje  ;  as  it  was,  an  astoundiiiii  sliock  wa.s 
the  only  apj)arent  result.     It  was  a  pity  he  was  hurt 
at  all,  but  the  thouii:lit  ot'blockino;  oti'  the  dtjo;  with 
his   face,    as   you    do  a  cricket    ball    with    a    bat, 
and   tliB    sublime    astonishment   of  both   doo;  and 
man   at    the   collision,  were   irresistibly  ludicrous. 
On   our  way  from  London  to  Lake  Huron  we 
came  on  a  curious  sight  at  the  side  of  the  road  —  a 
New  England  family,  on  their  way  from  Vermont 
to  Michigan,  travelling,  and  living,   in   a   wagon, 
like  the  Scythians  of  old.     The  wagon  was  of  com- 
paratively slight  construction,  and  was  arched  over 
with  a  white  canvas  roof,  so  as  to  serve  for  a  con- 
veyance by  day,  and  a  bedroom  by  night,  though  it 
must  have  been  hard  work  to  o;et  a  man  and  his 
wife,  and  some  children,  all   duly  stretched  out  at 
full  length,  packed  into  it.    Some  of  them,  I  !5U})pose, 
took  advantage  of  wayside  inns  for  theii   nightly 
lodging.     A    thin    pipe,    })rojecting   at    the   back, 
showed  that  they  had  a  small  stove  with  them,  to 
cook  their  meals.     Two  cows  were  slowly  walking 
behind,  the  man  himself  driving  them ;   and  a  tin 
pail,  hanging  on  the  front  of  the  wagon,  spoke  of 
part  of  their  milk  being  in  the  process  of  churning 
into  butter  by  the  shaking  on  the  way.     They  were 
very   respectable   looking  people  —  as   nearly   all 
New  Englanders  are  —  and  had,  no  doubt,  sold  off 
their  property,  whatever  it  might   have   been,  in 
their  native  State,  to  go  in  search  of  a  new  *'  loca- 
tion," as  they  call  it  —  that  is,  a  fresh  settlement 


Neio  Enjland  Emigrants. 


387 


ck  wa.-i 
IS  hurt 
Z  with 
a    but, 
)o:  and 
[icroiis. 
roil  we 
ad  —  a 
ermont 
wao'oii, 
of  coin- 
ed over 
L'  a  con- 
lough  it 
and  his 
out  at 
iijjpose, 
nightly 
back, 
liem,  to 
Ivalking 
Id  a  tin 
^)oke  of 
iiirning 
by  were 
Irly    all 
Isold  off 
jen,  in 
I"  loca- 
llement 


in  the  Far  West,  with  the  praises  of  which,  at  that 
time,  the  country  was  full.     It  must  have  taken 
the>n  a  very  long  time  to  get  so  far  at  such  a  snail" s 
pace  ;  but  time  would  eventually  take  a  snail  round 
the  world,  if  it  had  enough  of  it,  and  they  seemed 
to  lay  no  stress  whatever  on  the  rate  of  their  pro- 
gress.    They  had  two  horses,  two  cows,  and  the 
wagon,  to  take  with  them,  until  they  should  reach 
their  new  neighborhood  ;    and  to  accomplish  that 
was  worth  some  delay.     One  of  my  fellow-travel- 
lers told  me  that  such  waj^on-loads   were  then  an 
every-day  sight  on  the  road   past  Brantford  ;  and 
indeed   I  can  easily  believe  it.     Michigan  was  then 
a  garden   of  Eden,   according  to  popular   report ; 
but  it  was  not  long  in  losing  its  fame,  which  pat^sed 
to  Wisconsin,  and  from  that  has  passed   to   other 
States  or  territories  since.     The  New  Enfjland  folks 
are  as  much  given  to  leaving  their  own  country  as 
any  people,  and  much  more  than  most.     Their  own 
State   are  too  poor  to  keep  them  w^ell  at  home  ;  and 
they  have  energy,  shrewdness,  and  very  often  high 
principle,  which  make  them  welcome  in  any  place 
where    they   may  choose  to    settle   in    preference. 
I  know  parts  in  some  of  the  New  England  States 
where  there  are  hardly  any  young  men  or  young 
women  ;    they  have    left  for  the  towns  and  cities 
more  or  less  remote,   where   they  can    best   push 
their   fortunes.      It    is    the    same    very    much    in 
Nova  Scotia,  and,  indeed,  must  be  so  with  all  poor 
countries. 


388 


A  Potato  Pit, 


I  was  very  f]!;lacl,  when  I  got  home,  to  find  all 
my  circle  quite  well,  and  had  a  busy  time  of"  it  for 
a  jjood  while,  tellinn'  them  all  I  had  seen  and  heard. 
They  were  busy  with  tlieir  fall-work  —  o;c'ttin;Li;  the 
])otatoes  and  turnips  put  into  pits,  to  keep  them 
from  the  frost  when  it  should  set  in.  and  m'ttin*^ 
ready  a  great  stock  of  firewood.  Our  ])it  was  u 
curious  affair,  which  I  should  have  mentioned  ear- 
lier, since  we  made  it  in  the  second  fall  we  were 
on  the  river.  We  dug  a  great  hole  like  a  grave, 
many  feet  deep,  large  enough  to  hold  a  Inuidred 
bushels  of  potatoes,  and  I  don't  know  what  besides. 
The  bottom  of  this  excavation  was  then  strewed 
with  loose  boards,  and  the  sides  were  walled  round 
with  logs,  set  up  side  by  side,  to  keep  the  earth 
from  falling  in.  On  the  top,  instead  of  a  roof,  we 
laid  a  floor  of  similar  logs,  close  together,  and  on 
this  we  heaj)ed  up  earth  to  the  thickness  of  about 
three  fi3et,  to  keep  out  the  cold,  however  severe  it 
miiiht  be.  The  entrance  was  at  one  end,  down  a 
short  ladtler,  which  brought  you  to  a  door,  roughly 
fitted  in.  The  first  year  it  was  made,  we  })aid  for 
imperfect  acquaintance  with  such  things  by  bringing 
a  heavy  loss  on  ourselves.  We  had  put  in  eighty 
bushels  of  ])otatoes,  and,  to  keep  out  the  least  trac^ 
of  frost,  filled  uj)  the  hole  where  the  ladder  was 
with  earth.  But  in  the  spring  when  we  oi)ened 
the  pit  to  get  out  our  seed,  we  found  the  whole 
heap  to  be  worthless.  1  i-emember  the  day  very 
well ;    it   was  vQvy  bright  and  beautiful,  and  we 


The  Winter's  Wood. 


339 


were  all  in  liigli  spirits.  The  earth  was  removed 
from  the  ladder  end  in  a  very  short  time,  and  young 
Grahame,  one  of  a  neighbor's  boys,  asked  leave  to 
go  in  first,  and  bring  out  the  first  basketful.  Down 
lie  lea[)ed,  pulled  open  the  door,  and  crept  in.  We 
waited  a  minute,  but  there  was  no  sijxn  of  his  com- 
ing  out  again.  We  called  to  him,  but  got  no  an- 
swer ;  and  at  last  I  jumped  down  to  find  the  poor 
little  fellow  overpowered  from  the  effects  of  the 
carbonic  acid  gas,  with  which  the  pit  was  filled. 
The  earth  at  the  ladder  end  had  entirely  prevented 
the  necessary  ventilation,  and  the  potatoes  had 
"  heated,"  and  had  become  perfectly  rotten.  We 
managed  better  after  this  by  putting  straw  instead 
of  earth  into  the  opening ;  but  the  right  plan  would 
have  been  to  sink  a  small  hollow  tube  of  wood  — 
a  slender  piece  of  some  young  tree,*vvith  the  middle 
scooped  out,  through  the  top,  to  serve  as  a  ventila- 
tor. It  was  a  great  loss  to  us,  as  the  potatoes 
were  then  at  the  unusual  price  of  a  dollar  a  bushel, 
and  eighty  dollars  were  to  us,  at  that  time,  a  small 
fortune. 

The  laying  in  the  winter's  wood  was  a  tedious 
affair :  it  was  cut  in  the  fall,  and  part  of  it  dragged 
by  the  oxen  to  the  house  in  the  shape  of  long  logs  ; 
but  we  left  the  greater  part  of  the  drawing  till  the 
snow  came.  It  was  a  nasty  job  to  cut  off  each  day 
what  would  serve  the  kitchen,  and  keep  the  fires 
brisk ;  and  I  sometimes  even  yet  feel  a  twinge  of 
conscience  at  the  way  I  used  to  dole  out  a  fixed 

33* 


J 


ii'ii' ' 


ii. 
■  1,1 


ill 


I: 


i  I 


i 

Hi 


ii-V 


11: 


890 


Chopping  Firewood. 


number  of  ])ieccs  to  my  sisters,  keeping  it  as  small 
as  possible,  and  much  smaller  than  it  should  have 
been.  I  was  willinji  enouixli  to  work  at  most  thinjis, 
and  can't  blame  myself  for  being  lazy  ;  but  to  get 
u))  from  the  warm  fire  on  a  cold  morning  to  chop 
fire-wood,  was  freezing  work  ;  though  this  should 
certainly  not  have  kept  me  from  cutting  a  few 
more  sticks,  after  all.  I  am  afraid  we  are  too  apt 
to  be  selfish  in  these  trifles,  even  when  we  are  the 
very  reverse  in  things  of  more  moment.  If  I  had 
the  chance,  now  I  am  older,  I  think  1  would  atone 
for  my  stinginess,  cost  me  what  freezing  it  might. 


I 


TJioughts  for  the  Future, 


391 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

Thoughts  for  the  future.  -  Changes.  -  Too  hard  study.  -  Education 
in  Canada.  -  Christmas  markets.  -  Winter  a.uusen.ents.  -  kc 
boats.  _  Very  cohl  ice.  -  Oil-springs.  -  Changes  on  the  farni.- 
(xrowth  of  Canada. -The  American  climate. -Old  England 
again. 

VTTHEN  we  liad  been  five  years  on  the  form, 

^     and  Henry  and  I,  and  the  girls,  were  now 

getting  to  be  men  and  women,  the  question  of  what 

we  slioidd  do  to  get  started  in  tlie  world,  became 
more  and   more   pressing.     Robert  wished   to  get 
married  ;  Henry  and  I,  and  the  two  girls,  all  alike, 
wanted  to  be  off;  and  the  farm  was  clearly  unfit  to 
support  more  than  one  household.     It  took  a  long 
time  for  us  to  come  to  any  conclusion,  but  at  laJt 
we  decided  that  Robert  should  have  the  land,  that 
the  girls  should  be  sent  for  a  time  to  a  school  down 
the  country,  and  Henry  and  I  should  go  to  To- 
ronto, he  to  study  medicine,  and  I  law.      Of  course, 
all  this  could  not  be  managed  at  once,  but  it  was 
greatly  facilitated  by  remittances  from  my  brothers 
in  England,  who  undertook  by  far  the  lai'ger  pro- 
portion  of  the  cost.     I  confess  I  felt  more  sorrow  at 
leaving  the  old  place  than  I  had  expected,  tliough 


Jii 


<-ri 


m 


i  I 


I  111 


H 


Hi-'?'    ■ 


i  'fl 


392 


Too  hard  Stady. 


it  was  still  for  years  to  be  my  lioine  whenever  I  got 
free  for  a  time ;  and  it  was  l(jng  before  I  eould  get 
fairly  into  Blackstone,  and  Chitty,  and  Smith. 
Had  I  known  how  my  life  would  ultimately  turn, 
I  don't  think  I  should  ever  have  troubled  them,  for 
liere  I  am  now,  my  law  laid  aside,  snugly  in  Eng- 
land again,  a  partner  in  the  mercantile  establish- 
ment of  my  brothers,  who  had  continued  at  home. 
I  did  not  like  the  law  in  its  every-day  details  of 
business,  though  all  must  recognize  the  majesty  of 
the  great  principles  on  which  the  whole  fabric  rests  ; 
and  I  got  tired  utterly  of  the  country,  at  last,  per- 
haps from  failing  health,  for  I  bent  with  too  much 
zeal  to  my  studies  when  I  once  began.  The 
chance  of  leavino;  Canada  for  my  native  land  was 
thus  unspeakably  pleasing ;  and  it  rewarded  the 
gratitude  with  which  I  once  more  reached  it,  by 
giving  me  back  a  good  part  of  the  strength  I  had 
lost.  When  I  look  back  on  the  years  I  spent  over 
my  books,  and  remember  liow  I  presumed  on  my 
youth,  and  tasked  myself  night  and  day  to  continu- 
ous work,  it  seems  as  if  my  folly  had  only  been 
matched  by  my  guilt.  To  undermine  our  health  is 
to  trifle  with  all  our  advantages  at  once.  Honest, 
earnest  work  is  all  well  enough,  and  nobody  can 
ever  be  any  thing  without  it,  but  if  there  be  too 
much  of  it,  it  defeats  its  own  object,  and  leaves  him 
who  has  overtaxed  himself  behind  tliose  who  have 
made  a  more  discreet  use  of  their  strength.  I 
would  gladly  give  half  of  what  I  learned  by  all  my 


Too  hard  Study. 


393 


years  ofclo.se  study,  for  some  of  the  health  I  lost  in 
acquiring  it.  Indeed,  I  question  if  I  gained  more, 
after  all  my  fagging  on  with  a  wearied  body  and 
mind,  than  I  would  if  I  liad  taken  pro{)er  relaxa- 
tion and  amusement,  and  returned  fresh  and  vigor- 
ous to  my  books.  Tlie  Genoese  archers  lost  the 
battle  of  Cressy  by  a  shower  falHng  on  their  bow- 
strings, wdiile  those  on  our  side  gained  it  by  having 
their  weapons  safely  in  cases  till  the  chjuds  were 
past.  So,  no  doubt,  it  should  be  in  our  manage- 
ment of  those  powers  within,  on  which  our  success 
in  student  life  depends — let  them  be  safely 
shielded  betimes,  and  they  will  be  fresh  for  action 
when  others  are  relaxed  and  useless.  How  nnich 
time  is  spent  when  the  mind  is  wearied,  without 
our  being  able  to  retain  any  thing  of  what  we  read! 
How  often  have  I  closed  my  book,  at  last,  with  the 
feeling  that  really  it  might  have  been  shut  long 
before.  I  read  in  the  ofKce,  and  out  of  it,  when- 
ever I  had  a  chance ;  had  some  book  or  other  on 
the  table  at  my  meals  ;  kept  rigidly  from  visiting 
friejids,  that  I  mioht  economize  every  moment ; 
poked  my  fire,  and  lighted  a  fresh  candle  at  mid- 
ni<>ht,  and  gained  some  knowlediic,  indeed,  but  at 
the  cost  of  white,  or  rather  yellow  cheeks  —  a  stoop 
of  the  shoulders,  and  a  hollow  chest  —  cold  feet,  1 
fear,  for  life,  and  a  stomach  so  weak  that  I  am  sel- 
dom without  a  memento  of  my  folly  in  the  pi  in  it 
gives  me.  An  hour  or  two  in  the  open  air  every 
day  would  have  saved  me  all  these  abatements,  and 


f 


■i 


I 


I- 


i 


m 


I 


I  r 


iil: 

t .... 

■w 


I 


394 


Education  in  Canada. 


would  lia/e  quickened  my  powers  of  work  so  as 
more  tliiin  to  make  up  fur  their  being  indulged  in  a 
little  l)lay. 

Since  my  day,  great  facilities  liave  been  afforded 
in  Canada  for  education.  There  are  now  gram- 
mar schools,  with  very  moderate  fees,  in  every 
])art  of  the  country,  and  a  lad  or  young  man  can 
very  easily  get  a  scholarship  which  takes  him  free 
through  the  University  at  Toronto.*  Every 
county  has  one  or  more  to  give  away  each  year. 
There  is  thus  every  chance  for  those  who  wish  to 
rise,  and  Canada  will  no  doubt  show  some  notable 
results  from  the  facility  she  has  liberally  provided 
for  the  encouragement  of  native  genius  and  talent. 

My  b(;ing  for  a  length  of  time  in  a  town  showed 
me  new  features  of  a  colonial  life  which  I  should 
in  vain  have  looked  for  in  the  country.  In  many 
respects  I  might  easily  have  forgotten  I  was  in 
Canada  at  all,  for  you  might  as  well  speak  of  get- 
ting a  correct  idea  of  England  from  living  in  a  pro- 
vincial town,  as  of  Canada  by  living  in  the  streets 
of  Toronto.  The  dress  of  the  people  is  much  the 
same  as  in  Britain.  Hats  and  lio-ht  overcoats  are 
not  entirely  laid  aside  even  in  winter,  tUough  fur 
caps  and  gauntlets,  after  all,  are  much  more  com- 
mon.    The   ladies   sweep    along  with  more    show 

*  The  university  has  been  long  cstablislied,  but  since  I  attended 
its  classes,  it  has  been  put  on  a  more  liberal  basis  —  the  number 
of  chairs  enlarged,  and  facilities  for  obtaining  its  advantages 
greatly  increased. 


Christinas  Markets. 


395 


than  in  Encrland,  as  if  tlicy  dressed  for  out  of  door 
display  especially  ;  but  they  .are,  no  doubt,  temj»ted 
to  tliis  by  the  elearnees  and  dryness  of  the  air, 
which  neither  soils  nor  injures  fine  thin<::;s,  as  the 
coal-dust  and  dampness  does  in  English  towns. 
The  most  plainly-dressed  ladies  I  used  to  see  were 
the  wife  and  daujiliters  of  the  o;overnor-ii;eneral. 

The  markets  at  Christmas  were  usually  a  <:!;reater 
attraction  to  many  ])eople  than  they  used  to  be  in 
England.  If  the  weather  chanced  to  be  cold,  you 
would  see  hur^e  files  of  frozen  pigs  standing  on  their 
four  legs  in  front  of  the  stalls,  as  if  they  had  been 
killed  when  at  a  gallop ;  countless  sheep  hung 
over-head,  with  here  and  there  one  of  their  heads 
carefully  gilded,  to  add  splendor  to  the  exhibition. 
Some  deer  were  almost  always  noticed  at  some  of 
the  stalls,  and  it  was  not  unusual  to  see  the  carcase 
of  a  bear  contributing  its  part  to  the  general  show. 
As  to  the  oxen,  they  were  too  fat  for  my  taste, 
though  the  butcher  seemed  to  be  proud  of  them  in 
proportion  to  their  obesity.  The  market  was  not 
confined  to  a  special  building,  though  there  was  one 
for  the  purpose.  Long  ranges  of  farmers'  wagons, 
ranged  at  each  side  of  it,  showed  similar  treasures 
of  frozen  i)ork  and  mutton,  the  animals  standing 
entire  at  the  feet  of  their  owners,  who  sat  among 
them  waiting  for  purchasers.  Frozen  geese,  ducks, 
chickens,  and  turkeys  abounded,  and  that  house- 
hold was  very  poor  indeed  which  had  not  one  or 
other  to  grace  the  festival. 


896 


Winter  Amusements. 


■  n  1  (' 


!•;: 


n:: 


mi^ 


Winter  Avas  fi  n;roat  time  for  amusement  to  the 
townspeople,  from  tlic  nearness  of  the  hroad  bay 
wlii(;li  in  summer  forms  tlieir  liarbor,  antl,  after  the 
frost,  tlieir  ])lace  of  recreation.  It  was  (i;eneraliy 
turned  into  a  great  sheet  of  ice  across  its  whole 
breadth  of  two  miles,  some  time  about  Christmas, 
and  continued  like  rock  till  the  middle  of  April. 
As  long  as  there  were  no  heavy  falls  of  snow  to 
bury  it,  or  after  they  had  been  blown  oft'  by  the 
wind,  the  skatino;  was  universal.  Bovs  and  men 
alike  gave  way  to  the  passion  for  it.  The  ice  was 
covered  with  one  restless  throno;  from  mornino;  to 
night.  School-boys  made  for  it  as  soon  as  they  got 
free ;  the  clerks  and  shopmen  were  down  the 
instant  the  shutters  were  up  and  the  door  fastened  ; 
even  ladies  crowded  to  it,  either  to  skate  with  the 
assistance  of  some  gentleman,  or  to  see  the  crowd, 
or  to  be  pushed  along  in  chairs  mounted  on  run- 
ners. The  games  of  diff*erent  kinds  played  between 
large  numbers  were  very  exciting.  Scotchmen 
with  theh"  "  curling,"  others  with  balls,  battering 
them  liitliev'  and  thither,  in  desperate  efforts  to 
carry  them  to  a  particular  boundary.  Then  thei-e 
were  the  ice-boats  gliding  along  in  every  direction, 
with  their  loads  of  well-dressed  people  reclining  on 
them,  and  their  huge  sail  swellino;  overhead. 
These  contrivances  were  new  to  me,  though  I  had 
been  so  long  in  Canada.  They  consist  of  a  three- 
cornered  frame  of  wood,  large  enough  to  give  room 
for  five  or  six  people  lying  down  or  sitting  on  them, 


r 

I 


The  Icc'lntde  of  Toronto. 


397 


the  upper  sich^  boarded  over,  and  the  K)\ver  shod  on 
each  angle  witli  an  iron  runner.  A  mast  and  sail 
near  the  sliarp  point  wliicli  (^oes  foremost  furnish 
the  means  ot  propulsion.  Tlie  two  lonijest  runners 
are  HxcmI,  but  the  short  one  at  tlio  l)aek  is  worked 
by  a  lielni,  the  steersman  havini;  aetual  control  of 
the  machine  by  its  aid,  and  kee))in;^^  within  reach 
the  cleats  of  tlie  sail,  that  he  may  loosen  or  tiifhten 
it  as  he  sees  necessary.  Many  of  the  lads  about 
■were  very  skilful  in  manamni:;  them,  anil  wcndd  sail 
as  close  to  the  wind,  and  veer  and  tack,  as  if  they 
were  in  an  ordinary  boat  in  the  water,  instead  of  an 
oddly-shaped  sleiii;h  on  ice.  A  very  little  wiiul  suf- 
ficed to  drive  them  at  a  fjood  speed  if  the  ice  was 
good,  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  excitement  in 
watchinii"  the  cracks  and  air-holes  as  you  rushed 
over  them.  I  have  seen  them  sometimes  iioincr 
with  great  rapidity.  They  say,  indeed,  that  occa- 
sionally they  cross  the  harbor  in  less  than  four  min- 
utes—  a  rate  of  speed  ei^ual  to  nearly  thirty  miles 
an  hour. 

The  ice-trade  of  Toronto  is  a  considerable  branch 
of  industry  durino;  the  winter,  and  <j;ane;s  of  men 
are  emj^loyed  for  weeks  together  sawing  out  great 
blocks  about  two  feet  square  from  the  parts  of  the 
bay  where  it  is  clearest  and  best  for  use.  These 
are  lifted  by  poles  furnished  with  iron  hooks,  into 
carts,  and  taken  to  houses  especially  prepared  for 
keeping  them  through  the  hot  weather  of  the  fol- 
lowing   summer.     An    ordinary    wooden     frame 

34 


398 


Spring  Ice. 


;i 


Luildlno;  is  lined  inside  with  a  wall  all  round,  at 
from  two  to  three  feet  from  the  outer  one,  and  the 
space  between  is  filled  with  waste  tan  bark  rammed 
close,  to  keep  out  the  heat  when  it  comes.  In  this 
wintry  shelter  the  cubes  «'f  ice  are  built  up  in  solid 
masses,  and,  when  full,  the  whole  is  finally  pro- 
tected by  double  doors,  with  a  large  quantity  of 
straw  between  them.  In  the  hot  months  you  may 
see  light  carts  with  cotton  covering  stretched 
over  them  in  every  street,  carrying  round  the  con- 
tents—  now  broken  in  more  salable  pieces  —  the 
words  "  S})ring  ice  "  on  each  side  of  the  white  roof 
inviting  the  housekeepers  to  supply  themselves. 
In  hotels,  ])rivate  dwellings,  railway  carriages, 
steamers,  and  indeed  everywhere,  drinking-water 
in  summer  is  invariably  cooled  by  lum])s  of  gelid 
luxury,  and  not  a  few  who  take  some  of  the  one, 
finish  by  sucking  and  swallowing  some  of  the 
other.  I  saw  an  advertisement  lately  in  a  New 
Orleans  paper,  begging  the  visitors  at  hotels  not  to 
eat  the  ice  in  the  water-jugs  this  season,  as,  from 
the  war  luu'ing  cut  ofi'  the  sup})ly  from  the  North, 
it  was  very  scarce.  At  table,  in  most  houses,  the 
butter  is  regularly  surmounted  by  a  piece  of  ice,  and 
it  seems  a  regular  practice  with  some  persons  at 
hotels  and  on  steamers  to  show  their  breedino;  and 
selfishness  by  knockino;  aside  this  useful  orna- 
ment  and  taking  a  piece  wh'.ch  it  co^'ered,  as  the 
coolest  and  hardest,  leaving  the  others  to  put  it  up 
again  if  they  like. 


Canad'an  Ice. 


399 


one, 
the 
New 
not  to 
from 
orth, 
,  the 
e,  and 
)ns  at 
kcr  and 
orna- 
■as  the 
it  up 


pi 


Boilino;  water  never  gets  hotter  tlian  two  hun- 
di'ud  and  twelve  degrees,  beeause,  at  that  l.eat  it 
flies  off  in  steam,  but  ice  may  be  made  a  great  deal 
colder  than  it  is  when  it  first  freezes.  English  ice 
is  pretty  cold,  but  it  never  gets  fiir  below  thirty-two 
degrees,  which  is  the  freezing-point.  Canadian 
ice,  on  the  other  hand,  is  as  nuich  colder  as  the 
air  of  Canada  in  which  it  is  formed,  is  than  tnat  of 
Eno-land.  Thus  there  is  as  much  more  culu.  in  a 
piece  of  ice,  of  a  given  size,  from  the  one  country, 
than  in  a  piece  of  a  similar  size  from  the  otiier,  and 
where  cold  is  wished  to  be  produced,  as  it  is  in  all 
drinks  in  summer  in  hot  climates,  Canadian  ice  is, 
of  course,  much  more  valuable  than  any  warmer 
kind  would  be.  Tlie  Americans  have  lono;  an;o 
thought  of  this,  and  have  created  a  great  trade  in 
their  ice,  which  is  about  as  cold  as  that  of  Canada, 
taking  it  in  ships,  prepared  very  much  as  the  ice- 
houses are,  to  India,  and  many  other  countries, 
whore  it  is  sold  often  at  a  great  profit.  You  read 
jj  iLv'^-  ice  crop  as  you  would  hear  farmers  s})eak  of 
their  crop  of  wheat  or  potatoes.  They  have  not 
got  so  far  as  this  tint  T  know  of  in  Canada,  but  if 
Boston  ice  can  command  a  good  j)rice  in  Calcutta  or 
Madras,  that  of  the  l/ower  St.  Lawrence  sliould  be 
abio  to  drive  it  out  of  the  market,  for  it  is  verv 
much  colde)'.  A  fen'  inches  of  it  are  like  a  concen- 
trate 1  portable  wi^iter. 

In  tl\«i  finp  Tarms  round  Toronto  a  great  many 
fields  are  wxliort  any  stumps,  sometimes  from  their 


«■ 


400 


Oil  Springs. 


\  I 


v\ 


f} 


ill 


having  been  cleared  so  long  that  the  stumps  have 
rotted  out,  and  sometimes  by  their  having  been 
})ulled  out  bodily  as  you  would  an  old  tooth,  by  a 
stump  machine.  It  is  a  sim})le  enough  con- 
trivance. A  great  screw  is  raised  o'  .>r  the  stump 
on  a  stroncr  frame  of  wood  which  is  made  to  enclose 
it ;  some  iron  grapnels  are  fastened  into  it  on  dif- 
ferent sides,  and  a  long  pole  put  sticking  out  at  one 
side  for  a  horse,  and  then  —  after  some  twists  — 
away  it  goes,  with  far  more  et'*-'^  t'  n  would  be 
tlumo-lit  possible.  The  outlvino;  roots  have,  of 
course,  to  be  cut  away  first,  and  a  good  deal  of  dig- 
ging done,  to  let  the  screw,  and  the  horse  or  horses, 
have  every  chance,  but  it  is  a  much  more  expedi- 
tious plan  than  any  other  known  in  Canada,  and 
must  be  a  i^reat  comfort  to  the  farmer  by  lettincr 
him  plough  and  harrow  without  going  round  a  wil- 
derness of  stumps  in  each  field. 

A  singular  discovery  has  beei?  made  of  late  yeu- 
about  ten  miles  behind  Robert's  farm  in  Bidv  ort. 
of  wells  yielding  a  constant  supply  of  petrokvpi  rr 
rock  oil,  instead  of  water.  The  quantity  obtained 
is  enormous,  and  as  the  oil  is  of  a  very  fine  quality 
and  fit  for  most  ordinary  puqwses,  it  is  of  great 
value.  Strangely  enough,  not  only  in  Canada  but 
also  in  the  States,  the  same  unlooked-for  source  has 
been  found  at  about  the  same  time,  supplying  the 
Siime  kind  of  oil.  The  wells  of  Pennsylvanju  are 
amazingly  productive.  I  hive  been  assured  chat 
there  is  a  small  river  in  on  3  of  the  townshipb  of  the 


Oil  Springs, 


401 


have 
been 
by  a 
con- 
;tump 
iclose 
in  (1  it- 
it  one 
ists  — 
lid  be 
e,    of 
of  dig- 
iiorses, 
ixpedi- 


[a,  and 
etting 
a  wil- 


yor'-L" 
\(\\  ort. 

^tained 
luality 
o;reat 
lla  but 
Ice  has 
i£f  the 


li' 


are 


that 
lof  the 


State,  called  Oil  Creek,  which  is  constantly  covered 
with  a  thick  coat  of  oil,  from  the  quantity  that 
oozes  from  each  side  of  the  banks.  The  whole  soil 
around  is  saturated  with  it,  and  this,  with  the 
necessity  of  fording  the  w^ater,  has  destroyed  a 
great  many  valuable  horses,  which  are  found  to  get 
inflamed  and  useless  in  the  legs  by  the  irritation 
the  oil  causes.  Wells  are  sunk  in  every  part  of 
the  neighborhood,  each  of  which  spouts  up  oil  as  an 
artesian  well  does  water,  and  that  to  such  an  amaz- 
ing extent,  that  from  some  of  them,  hundreds  of 
barrels,  it  is  affirmed,  have  been  filled  in  a  day. 
Indeed,  there  is  one  well,  which  is  known  by  the 
well  of  "  The  Brawly,"  which,  if  we  can  believe 
the  accounts  given,  in  sixty  days  spouted  out  thirty- 
three  thousand  barrels  of  oil,  and  some  others  are 
alleged  to  have  yielded  more  than  two  thousand 
barrels  in  twenty-four  hours.  Unfortunately,  pre- 
parations had  not,  in  most  cases,  been  made  for 
catching  this  extraordinary  quartity,  so  that  a  great 
proportion  of  it  ran  off  and  was  lost.  The  depth 
of  the  well  varies.  Some  are  close  to  the  surface, 
but  those  which  yield  most  are  from  five  to  eight 
hundred  feet  deep,  and  there,  seemed  to  reach  a 
vast  lake  of  oil  which  is  to  all  ajipearance  inex- 
haustible. They  manage  to  save  the  whole  pro- 
duce now  by  lining  the  wells,  which  are  mere  holes 
about  six  inches  in  diameter,  for  some  depth  with 
copper  sheathing,  and  putting  a  small  })ipe  with 
stop-cocks  in  at  the  top,  which  enables  them  to  con- 


I 


402 


Oil  S2)rings. 


iMi 


li-iV 


i  !■ 


'■.i^ 


trol  the  flow  as  easily  as  tliey  do  that  of  water. 
If  we  think  of  the  vast  quantities  of  coal  stored  up 
in  different  parts,  it  will  diminish  our  astonishment 
at  the  discovery  of  these  huge  reservoirs  of  oil,  for 
both  seem  to  have  the  same  source,  from  the  vast 
beds  of  vegetation  of  the  early  eras  of  the  globe  ; 
if,  indeed,  the  oil  does  not  often  rise  from  decom- 
position of  coal  itself,  for  it  occurs  chiefly  in  the 
oal  measures.  We  shall  no  doubt  have  full  scien- 
tific accounts  of  them,  after  a  time,  and  as  they 
become  familiar  we  shall  lose  the  feel  in  2:  of  wonder 
which  they  raised  at  first.  Except  to  the  few  who 
are  thouHitful,  nothincr  that  is  not  new  and  stran<xe 
seems  worthy  of  notice  ;  but,  if  we  consider  aright, 
wdiat  is  wonderful  in  itself  is  no  less  so  because  we 
have  become  accustomed  to  it.  It  is  one  great  dif- 
ference between  a  rude  and  a  cultivated  mind,  that 
the  one  has  only  a  gaping  wonder  at  passing  events 
or  discoveries,  while  the  other  seeks  to  find  novelty 
in  what  is  already  familiar.  The  one  looks  only 
at  a  result  before  him,  the  other  tries  to  find  out 
causes.  The  one  only  looks  at  things  as  a  whole, 
the  other  dwells  on  details  and  examines  the  minut- 
est parts.  The  one  finds  food  for  his  curiosity  in 
his  first  impressions,  and  when  these  fade,  turns 
aside  without  any  further  interest  ;  the  other  dis- 
covers wonders  in  things  the  most  common,  insig- 
nificant, or  apparently  w^orthless.  Science  got  the 
beautiful  metal  —  aluminium  —  out  of  the  clay 
which   ignorance   trod   under   foot ;    through   Sit 


, 


m- 


Changes  on  the  Farm. 


403 


we 
dif- 
tluit 
lents 
elty 
inly 
out 
ole, 
liut- 
iii 
rns 
Idis- 
sig- 
the 
[lay 

\sit 


Humphrey  Davy  it  got  loiline  out  of  tlic  scra])ings 
of  soap-kettles,  which  the  soap-hoilers  had  always 
thrown  out,  and  it  extracts  the  heautiful  dyes  we 
call  Magenta  and  Solferino,  from  coal-tar,  which 
used  to  be  a  worthless  nuisance  near  every  gas- 
house. 

My  brother  Robert's  farm,  when  I  last  saw  it, 
was  very  different  from  my  first  recollection  of  it. 
He  has  a  nice  little  brick  house  built,  and  frame 
barns  have  taken  the  place  of  the  old  log  ones  that 
served  us  lonji;  ago.  After  our  leavino;  he  com- 
menced  a  new  orchard  of  the  best  trees  he  coidil 
get  —  a  nursery  established  sixty  miles  off  down 
the  river,  supjdying  young  trees  of  the  best  kinds 
cheajily.  They  have  flourished,  and  nuist  by  this 
time  be  getting  quite  broad  and  venerable.  He 
has  some  good  horses,  a  nice  gig  for  sunnner,  with 
a  leather  cover  to  keep  off  the  sun  or  the  stoini, 
and  a  sleigh  for  winter,  with  a  very  handsome  set 
of  furs.  Most  of  the  land  is  cleared,  and  he  is  able 
to  keep  a  man  all  the  time,  so  that  he^  has  not  the 
hard  work  he  once  had.  His  fences  are  new  and 
good,  and  the  whole  place  looked  very  pleasant  in 
summer.  All  this  progress,  how^ever,  has  not  been 
made  from  the  profits  of  the  farm.  A  little  money 
left  by  a  relative  to  each  of  us  gave  him  some  ca})i- 
tal,  and  with  it  he  opened  a  small  store  on  his  lot 
in  a  little  house  built  for  the  ]nirposc.  There  was 
no  pretence  of  keeping  shop,  but  when  a  customer 
came  he  called  at  the  house,  and  any  one  who  hap- 


404 


Qrowth  of  Canada. 


■<  i 


pened  to  be  at  hand  went  with  liim  and  unlocked 
the  door,  opened  the  shutter,  and  supphed  him, 
hjcking  all  safely  again  when  he  was  gone.  In  this 
primitive  way  he  has  made  enough  to  keep  him 
very  comfortably  with  his  family,  the  land  provid- 
ing most  of  what  they  eat.  They  have  a  school 
within  a  mile  of  them,  but  it  is  rather  an  humble 
one,  and  there  is  a  clergyman  for  the  church  at  the 
wharf  two  miles  down.  Henry  esta])lished  himself 
in  a  little  village  wlien  he  first  got  his  degree,  but 
was  thought  so  much  of  by  his  professors  that  ho 
has  been  asked  to  take  the  chair  of  surgery,  which 
he  now  holds.  My  two  sisters,  Margaret  and 
Eliza,  both  married,  but  only  the  former  is  now 
living,  the  other  having  been  dead  for  some  years. 
Margaret  is  married  to  a  worthy  Presbyterian 
minister,  and,  if  not  rich,  is,  at  least,  comfortable, 
in  the  ])lain  way  familiar  in  Canada. 

When  we  first  went  to  Canada  no  more  was 
meant  by  that  name  than  the  strip  of  country  along 
the  St.  Lawrence,  in  the  Lower  Province,  and,  in 
the  Uj)per,  the  peninsula  which  is  bounded  by  the 
great  lakes — Huron,  Erie,  and  Ontario.  Since 
then,  however,  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California 
and  Eraser's  River  has  o;iven  a  wide  rano;e  to  men's 
thoughts,  and  awakened  an  ambition  in  the  settled 
districts  to  claim  as  their  domain  the  vast  reo;ion  of 
British  America,  stretching  away  west  to  the  shores 
of  the  Pacific,  and  north  to  the  xVrctic  Ocean.  I 
used  to  think  all  this  vast  tract  only  fit  for  the  wild 


The  American  Climate. 


40b 


animals  to  wliicli  it  was  for  the  most  part  left,  but 
there  is  notliino;  like  a  little  knowledo-e  for  cliaiio;- 
iiig  mere  prejudice.  There  is  of  course  a  part  of  it 
which  is  irredeemably  desolate,  but  there  are 
immense  reaches  whicii  will,  certainly,  some  dnv, 
be  more  highly  valued  than  they  are  now.  The 
nearly  untouched  line  on  the  north  of  Lake  Huron 
lias  been  found  to  be  rich  in  mines  of  copper.  The 
Red.  River  district  produces  magnificent  wheat. 
The  River  Saskatchewan,  flowino;  in  two  o;reat 
branches  from  the  west  and  north-west  to  Lake 
Winnepeg,  drains  a  country  more  than  six  times  as 
large  as  the  whole  of  England  and  Wales,  and  every- 
where showing  the  most  glorious  woods  and  prairies, 
whicli  are  proofs  of  its  wealth  as  an  agricultural 
region.  The  Mackenzie  River  drains  another  part 
of  the  territory  eight  times  as  large  as  England  and 
Wales  together,  and  the  lower  })arts  of  it,  at  least, 
have  a  climate  which  promises  comfort  and  plenty. 
It  is  no  less  than  two  thousand  five  hundred  miles 
in  length,  and  is  navigable  by  steamboats  for  twelve 
hundred  miles  from  its  mouth.  It  is  a  sino;ular 
fact  that  the  further  west  you  go  on  the  North 
American  continent,  the  milder  the  climate.  Van- 
couver's Island,  Mdiich  is  more  tlum  tw^o  hundred 
miles  further  north  than  Toronto,  has  a  climate  Hke 
that  of  England ;  instead  of  the  extremes  of  Can- 
ada,  as  you  go  up  the  map,  the  difference  between 
the  west  and  east  sides  of  the  continent  becomes  as 
great  as  if  we  were  to  find  in  Newcastle  the  same 


"III  .  1,  'J 


IP'     !  < 

\<.  -t   f, 


.% 


Bl 


■' 


?3  ', 


SI." 

i. 


Hi 


406 


Tlie  American  Climate. 


temperature  in  winter  as  French  settlers  enjoy  in 
Aliiiers.  The  musk  oxen  o;o  more  tlian  four  hun- 
di'ed  miles  further  north  in  summer,  on  the  wes- 
tern, than  tliey  do  on  tlie  eastern  side,  and  tlie  elk 
and  moose-deer  wander  nearly  six  hundred  miles 
further  north  in  the  grass  season,  on  the  one  than 
on  the  other. 

It  is  indeed  more  wonderful  that  tlie  east  side  of 
America  should  be  so  cohl  than  that  the  west 
should  be  so  much  milder.  Toronto  is  on  a  line 
with  the  Pyrenees  and  Florence,  and  yet  has  the 
climate  of  Russia  instead  of  that  of  southern  Franco 
or  Italy  ;  and  Quebec,  with  its  frightful  winters 
and  roasting  summers,  would  stand  nearly  in  the 
middle  of  France,  if  it  were  carried  over  in  a 
straight  line  to  Europe.  Yet  we  know  what  a 
wonderful  difference  there  is  in  England,  which  is, 
thus,  far  to  the  north  of  it.  It  is  to  the  dift'erent 
disti'ibution  of  land  and  sea  in  the  two  hemispheres, 
the  mildness  in  the  one  case,  and  the  coldness  in 
the  other,  must  be  attributed.  The  sea  which 
stretches  round  the  British  Islands,  warmed  by  tlie 
influence  of  the  Gulf  Stream,  is  the  great  source  of 
their  comparative  warmth,  tempering,  by  its  nearly 
uniform  heat,  alike  the  fierce  blasts  of  the  north 
and  the  scorchiiio;  airs  of  the  south.  In  Sir  Charles 
Ly ell's  "  Principles  of  Geology,'*  you  will  find 
maps  of  the  land  and  sea  on  the  earth,  so  arranged, 
that  in  one,  all  the  land  would  be  comparatively 
temperate,  while  in  the  other,  it  would  all  be  com- 


Old  England  again. 


407 


parativelj  cold.  In  America  it  is  likely  that  the 
great  mountains  that  run  north  and  south  in  three 
vast  chains,  beginning,  in  the  west,  with  the  Cas- 
cade Mountains,  followed,  at  wide  distances,  by  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  rising  in  their  vast  height  and 
length,  as  a  second  barrier,  on  the  east  of  them, 
and  by  the  vast  nameless  chain  which  stretches,  on 
the  east  side  of  the  continent,  from  the  north  shore 
of  Lake  Superior  to  the  south  of  King  Wil Ham's 
Land,  on  the  Arctic  Ocean  —  modify  the  climate 
of  the  great  North-west  to  some  extent,  but  it  is 
very  hard  to  speak  with  any  confidence  on  a  point 
so  littlci  known. 

I  have  already  said  that  I  am  glad  I  am  back 
again  in  dear  Old  England,  and  I  repeat  it  now 
that  I  am  near  the  end  of  my  story.  I  have  not 
said  any  thing  about  my  stay  in  Nova  Scotia, 
because  it  did  not  come  within  my  plan  to  do  so, 
but  I  include  it  in  my  thoughts  when  I  say,  that, 
after  all  I  have  seen  these  long  years,  I  believe 
"  there's  no  place  like  home."  If  a  boy  really 
wish  to  get  on  and  work  as  he  ought,  he  will  find 
an  opening  in  life  in  his  own  glorious  country, 
without  leavino;  it  for  another.  Were  the  same 
amount  of  labor  expended  by  any  one  here,  as  I 
have  seen  men  best'^^v  on  their  wild  farms  in  the 
bush,  they  would  get  as  nmch  for  it  in  solid  com- 
fort and  enjoyment,  and  would  have  arcund  them 
through  life  the  thousand  delio;hts  of  their  native 
land.     Some  people  can  leave  the  scene  of  their 


408 


FeeUiKj  toward  Enyland. 


)  I 


boyhood  and  the  friends  of  tlieir  youtli,  and  even 
of  their  manhood,  without  seeming  to  leel  it,  but  I 
do  not  envy  them  tlieir  indifference.  I  take  no 
shame  in  confessing  that  I  feh  toward  England, 
while  away  from  it,  what  dear  Oliver  Goldsmith 
says  so  touchingly  of  his  brother : 


"  Where'er  I  roam,  whatever  realms  to  see, 
My  heart,  untravell'd,  fondly  turns  to  tliee  : 
Still  to  my  country  turns,  with  ceaseless  pain, 
Aud  drags  at  each  remove  a  lengthening  chain.' 


THE  END. 


1  even 
,  but  I 
ike  no 
igland, 
dsinith 


